It's staunch belief, dear lad, to kill,
‘Branded' enemies, to carry out His will,
For reasons, beyond our comprehension,
As if the world in need of redemption.
War's a mere game; like scratch and win,
Where the two warring factions rarely win;
But leaders who scratch each other's' back,
Gain mutual benefit with the firms that back!
Vultures hover in the dark sky, hissing in strange tunes,
Waiting for next batch of corpses, dumped in sand dunes,
Of the unfortunate migrant folk, uncounted in database,
Like countless shells and bullets, scattered in firebase!
If man's mortal and life's uncertain, why to amass wealth,
In disproportions, for distant descendants to be prodigal,
And build multi-storied mansions, when millions live in filth,
With no space to put their corporeal frame for desires, conjugal!
The World, in grief, hangs its head in shame,
As shameless leaders still hang out for fame,
At the plight of penniless people perishing,
On rails n roads, the death corridors, crashing!
All objects and organs are meant for use in time,
Not for museums, to be showcased in rust and dust.
So are pleasures of flesh and blood in prime,
To feed, breed and quench thirst for love and lust!
Wish I were a flower on the wreath placed on your bosom,
To decay with your mortal remains, a paragon of virtue,
To be one under earth, and later in heaven be awesome,
Soulmates, to enjoy all pleasures of life you did eschew!
Like a crown of glory and the nation's pride you look there!
Pierced into the sky, the head invisible to men on earth,
The last epitome of man's pride on earth, I fear!
Could be the next target of His eternal wrath.
An insane, sad, sullen and serious, stormed,
Sandy Hook, caught by an evil spirit, armed,
With multiple rifles and went on rampage,
Slaughtering a score of angels to subside his rage.