stop

they preach war through fiery tongues

exhale righteousness from gasping lungs

they peddle insanity as inevitable reason

and ridicule logic as blasphemous treason

their fingers press triggers without needing guns

they promise the white death of a thousand suns

sacrifice is the price of justice, they say

and cost is not what you incur but what they pay

but yes it’s true; a fitting reply must be found

thus also insists the bleeding ground

and so the earth seeks to slake its thirst

slurping, uncaring about who dripped first

and so falls the doomed dice of fate

teased and tossed not by love but hate

while hungry children on both sides die

without needing a bullet to make them cry

while the homeless old shiver and shake

from a future they couldn’t quite make

while women live unknowing of their worth

forced each day to rue the day of their birth

while young men grow up tired and old

fatigued and faded like fabulous fool’s gold

and while the gods silently stare and grieve

from a sight their goddamn eyes can’t believe.

ram cobain