Chapter: About the war

Like stone falls silent <br />
Millions of grimaces stare. <br />
Today is pity <br />
the lining of our vanity. <br />
Charred naked <br />
the sacred plow. <br />
Crumbling of your wooden towers <br />
Stone by stone. <br />
<br />
In bloody battles <br />
give consolation to children. <br />
There are <br /> on all the walls
the dead again. <br />
Can there be souls <br />
who enjoy the gray, <br />
if from old hands <br />
poisonous seeds fall. <br />
<br />
The blood of the weak <br />
inoculated into the winners. <br />
Wiped up by rags <br />
it tastes rusty. <br />
Mothers rush looking for <br />
Graves of their children. <br />
Faces mutilated, <br />
left by crows. <br />
<br />
Wars will never be <br />
Destroy violence. <br />
And honesty from droppings and straw <br />
like rotting yellow maggots. <br />
A child dies
under marble pillars. <br />
On this floor should <br />
brightly lit new cities stand. <br />
<br />Guilt, right. <br />
Goodwill no longer helps us. <br />
Only miracles save us. <br />
<br />
People, addiction. <br />
Our mother earth is hanging, <br />
at the last twitching nerve. <br />
<br />
My soul struggles inexorably, <br />
because I also murdered. <br />