Libre Magazine

Anger and hatred doth put my heart asunder
For the binding cords of love, my heart doth hunger
In a world as fragile as pieces of china
Every human tied to a self-destruct timer

Where people kill people for free
And there’s enough spilled blood to discolor the sea
The fetus is killed before its birth
It reaches heaven without passing through earth

The tree seeks pity to be allowed to stand
He’s as much of prey as the land
The lips of the clergy only utter lies
Infant hears and sees adult cries

Timber obliges to turn coffin rather than book
Our nemesis resides in every mirror we look
We yell “ADVANCE!” but we actually retreat
Every victory is disguised defeat

The rich are poor in spirit
The poor rich in spirit
A paradox of human existence
Subject to total negligence

Perhaps GOD should make love a gas
Diffuse its molecules through every air-mass
But then again, my foresight is too late
With time ourselves we would suffocate
From sources both far and near
Deploy your love-missiles to me here