• jones 22w

    Murdering peace

    When did war become peace
    And freedom slavery ?
    Beneath the blue sky
    Bullets fly, so does the butterfly
    Stray bullets and stray butterflies

    Behind the scene is murder
    Their gun smokes freedom
    Genes of vengeance we pass
    Generations after another

    Smooth stones my ancestors had
    For a smooth shiny sculpture
    Bt they chipped it to the edge
    For a shiny weapon
    Ain't we all children
    Of one man ?

    O time !
    Murderer of past
    And witness of present
    What words do you have
    For the undead future