A sincere thing is battle, for all human rights
Must be tested for worthiness when the time comes.
Complex themes reoccurring throughout history
Share the same basic premise – the will to be free
From the freedoms of others to beat silent drums
To the march of pure evil that hatred incites.
And as war becomes civil, to know where I stand
Is imprinted within me for others to see.
With the speed of the bullet flash judgment is made.
It provides enough fodder to fuel the crusade
Of righteous insurrection. How else could it be
For the most first world nation prepared to disband?
Branching off like viruses that seek a new host,
Tribes will conquer lands occupied with no remorse.
It is of our best nature to do others harm
So that all have a healthy respect for alarm.
Independence from mother lands brought on by force
Is the strength and the weakness that threatens us most.
We become the medusa for no one to see
In its purest of essence. The turning to stone
Of those looking directly into our dark soul
Is the fear insurmountable. As a black hole
In the heart of the human collective, we own
The perfected aesthetic of our bigotry.