When It Wars Poem by lucky brown

When it wars no one run to old gnarled sagging oak or erect trees alike a thing that made one a man no one runs to no ancestrial shrine to seek a refuge behind wooden corpes reincarnated to faggots that lies at the sights of lies the truth of the lies that lies under the root of the skies when it wars no one runs to those impotent river bank that its legs sank the blood of the bloody brothers of ours when it wars no one runs to kings or priests our ancestral living deities and gods that became ancestors to feed from them lies but eat spices but when it wars do we run to our homes there ones heart lies its a sign of civilisation