War...

There is no way for you to escape this punishment,

watch as your sins pull the trigger,

From beneath the dead, the number is counted,

your next in line.



How can you say you've done no wrong,

the blood on your eyes has blinded you,

the blood on your hands prevents you,

from grasping the image you search for.

Ash and fear choke your throat,

wringing the life from your rotting body.

We are nought but whitewashed tombs,

A disgusting taste drenched in honey.



From what do we derive our arrogance?

This feeling of supremacy,

I wait for the day when we will cower,

and tremble before a greater power.



Shake hands with the swords,

they say violence begets peace,

What an ironic statement this is,

when peace is broke off at the knees.

You try to walk the path of virtue,

but behold the ground is slick with blood.

Tripping over the bodies of the ones you've slain,

faces forgotten, face down in the mud.



Roaring gunfire as ambiance,

how can screams be pleasure to your ears?

You wear a suit entitled sadist.

And wield a gun nicknamed fear.

Your mansions built on the profit,

of procreators of violence and greed.

The slaying of innocent children,

humors the sick mind that watches them bleed.



How can you say you've done no wrong,

From what do we derive our arrogance?

the blood on your eyes has blinded you,

This feeling of supremacy,

the blood on your hands prevents you,

from grasping the image you search for.

You wear a suit entitled sadist.

And wield a gun nicknamed fear.



Your veil won't conceal this long,

you can't hide behind it forever,

from the dead your victims arise,

now you will know true terror.



To the war-mongers of the world,

hear me now!