fauxcroft

Rancid, fetid, on the turn

Watching as the funeral pyres burn,

Sick men, slick men, businessmen

Warming hands on their victims,

Dark and full of the stench of death

Resonates corrupt government,

Lascivious stares and evil grins,

The war machines on the march again.

Squalid bombed out cities and towns,

Reflections of lives crushed down

Under the weight of might and power,

In the name of money we bleed.

Wars caught without a cause

Wars that break humanitarian laws,

Death dealers sit in ivory towers

Feasting on their insatiable powers,

To destroy our lives This earth,

We’re buried in mass their graves

We were doomed from birth.