Dream Better Poem by Alfred Barna

Oh you imams, rabbis, preachers and priests
Who rail that my God is great, but men must go and kill
As these goblins sit down at their banquets and feasts
Pretending that they alone know of the Creators will
What omnipotent being needs us to destroy those who believe
Differently from what we believe, because only we are right
I tell you it is Satan who whispers into our ears to deceive
And have us kill one another because we have been blinded by might
Even the humanists are just as sickly and inhumane
As they place men upon pedestals in which they rule
Where only power and coercion they wish to is obtain
Their high place on a hierarchy, and to all others the fool

I do very much believe in a Creator of all we observe
But have little faith in the men who lust for control
Delusions of grandeur, is a psychopathy we deserve
When we allow men to usurp our freedoms into their fold
However, even Satan needs only man and his desires
Man destroys himself in a puff of smoke of his making
For his passions are merely stirred to rise up the fires
All evil has to do is to watch us; as to our own kind is set baking
Yet, merely look at the men who serve sun, the stars and the moon
Dressed in their robes of wizards in the dark of the night
Laughing at the fools who do their bidding, to mock the buffoon
How they are the ones to decide what is wrong, what is right

Oh there is evil to be sure, and certainly there is good
But what is involved in discerning, what direction we move
Do unto others was a rule, and so sorely understood
If you should harm yourself or neighbor, what else is to prove
What happened to the days, where men would dream better
A world in which men were free, and the future was bright
We would hold laws to the high and low, laws were a fetter
The rich and powerful could not payoff and make punishment slight
Oh the days, where the future was a place for our children to want
Not to cringe in fear, because of darkness of our hand
What is it within us, is there no true conscience in us to haunt
The true shame is upon all of us, that we have no better plan