Reality of miss spent hate

Clear deep ocean blue black sky

Stars glitter like diamonds

The whole world seems to shiver

From the blast of evil in the air

Afternoon wind became a nighttime breeze

The creaking trees as hallows eve

Here is where either dreams are dreamt

Or nightmare’s reality spent

Depended on your hearty or duty

Not for those in the field of battle

The sounds you hear are not muffled

Sounds here are brutally honest

As horror and hate collide

From the heart of a desk a politicians muse

Yes there is evil we need to defuse

Tenets of a religious fervor

Get the infidels and ingrates

There is no end to men’s hypocrisy

Justice for all off with their heads

Will the wind shift in favor of peace

As people wake up from a coma’s sleep

Where is the color we hate so much?

It is not a color after all it is the spirit of hate

This spirit sits in the corner of the world

Laughing and taunting drawing minions

From the underworld

This is what we are hearing in the creaking of trees

The chuckles from minions laughing at the least of these

To shudder is what demon means

When will we learn not to listen to these?

Politicians and patriarchs of religious fervor

Speak the language of the shudder

Silence not the lambs but the stutter of the shudder

Listen to the whisper of peace in your heart

That is the only place we should take part.


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