Inspiration to be better
In a far and forgotten realm
Where love never goes
And smoke instead of
The clean air blows
And no birds there anymore
Just ash-covered crows
That is the realm
Of unkept hate
That wretched soul was warned
By the author who spoke for peace
Because the idea itself cannot speak
If he had listened maybe he would cease
Instead he brought more destruction
Towards what was actually good
Lives ruined, world-views shattered,
People hurt, but he just put up his hood
Time and again the author would come
And again show him his mistreat
Of the homos, the big bangers,
The black, brown, yellow, forced to retreat
The true Indians, the poor infants
Even the ones who honor the Christ
The poor trees, and clean air,
But the soul still treated them like dirty mice
As that wretched soul declared himself inevitable
The two heard a loud thud
They turned and saw a poor soul without a group
The outsider was laid to waste like the crud
The wretched soul had seen the rest as.
It was over with, the ones not involved
Had been dragged into the conflict
And payed the price for a problem unsolved
The wretched soul now remains here in
His purgatory, eternally reminded
Of the terrible tragedy, the world ruined
And how he was one-sided
I don’t know about the rest
But I’m inspired to be the author
The one who spoke truth to power
For peace and who tried to open the door
To a better solution than this aggression
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