Many men awed by another
have then sought out their fellows land
Man shall turn brother on brother
to steal of him his woman's hand

How do we claim the virtue love
yet pray to our war in the same
We speak of peace from up above
then **** each other in his name

By taking life what do we gain
rendering all someone may own
Do we inherit sorrowed pain
for our own failure to have grown

I see good men, both meek and mild
but those who **** so needlessly
Take life of someone’s loving child
depleting all humanity

What will they say when we're no more
beware those who **** their own kind
We will become what all deplore
until only the wind you'll find

Tate
Original poem and music
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/680135/