The things made by you,
Grew they hands and legs, and made you.
You made your homes – in the barrels of guns.
On explosives, you slept,
And dream of dangers you clothe in sugar.
Your lives tick away – kinsmen of the burning candle.
You call it Progress; I call it regrets.
It hides the torture; it gives the pleasures.
You plant steel roses – they bloom before the watchful watch of doom’s gloom.
You try to outsmart Providence,
He, up there, sits, pulling His beard snowy and laughs.
Ask Sodom’s children – their gory tales, yours will soon be.
The Fire you Fathered, to Forge your Flambouyant ambitions,
That same Fire, down will Fall, to Fry your Frozen hearts.
You children of a ‘Fountless’ race – your insane Feats will be your Finish!
I was, before you were and will be, when you will not.
I knew the world before you were formed – with words.
I mothered you, in murky realms, you murdered me yet.
You despised me, in dominant desecration, you descried my nakedness.
My love for you – you punctured; My heart – you fractured.
I am the one – The Stone you stoned
And the Undoing it became, of your Doings.
I am the one – The Keep you killed
And brazenly banished into the Barrens.
It is I – The earth you hurt; The Source you sauced.
I am the labeled want-wit you never wanted.
I am the beaut you blistered and add to your filth-list.
O’ thoughtless Humanity, languishing, in forte-less Human-pity…
I am Arts…I am your heart.
I am Life…I am your light!