For the weak, for the ******
Who hears their sacred plea
When their souls are in flames?

Who testifies to the carnage
The dusk of tyranny wrought
Upon a stand of hollow men?

Who bears such celestial wings
To lift humanity unto a peak
And defy the gravity of froth?

Who, thus, shall pen in song
A tune of woe – its chapter raw
To rouse, the foretold Saviour!

Genuinely, I voice
Ever to the listener
News for the soul;
Only by a cypher
Cutting through
Infantry of waves
Declaring to all:
End the madness!

The Pharisees casting stones
In ostentatious long white robes
From where they don’t preach – that
Mighty ain’t made from sword.
Drab be the low – dusted!
A modern day they call it:
So they drop shells and bombs
(MODERN DAY WAR FARE!)
We wait for the Armageddon
Bound in our own backyards
For it will not be too long
From wonted neighbor to vile foe
A wild cry: Long live to none!
Or so it shall be, for all mortals.