Holes are the result of what they had brought
to the millions of targets the wrath had wrought
In a power-fueled rage, spitting words venom laced
towards every one of those whomever opposed

To leave nothing of the earth but a mark with mirth
planting fleeting toadstool clouds, making gods proud
Ruins remaining will reside strewn both far and wide
the once plentiful signs of life cast at last into Æther  

a manufactured moment of silence
lies seen by the eyes of compliance