To the positive warlords
I
How have you fed your people upon lies,
And cried "Peace! Peace! And knew it would not die!
For now the iron demon takes to the sky,
And in your new-found city and lands,
Vigilant and fierce a deadly dragon flies.
Twenty-thousand cannons echo your ruling,
To whose philosophical exhortation to you bend your knees
And lift unto the Lord of evil your eyes?
This is Hell's work: lower you hands from heaven
Lest those hands melt, from holding up the sword!
There stands another blood stained alter,
At your bowing, there stand the infernal seraphim
Give unto Satan, your conspiring secrets,
For the blood of nations, flow by your mandated credo.
II
Be yours the doom Palestine's voice foretold
As unto Babylon, O ye has cursed the Lord,
Cast the evil sword, its shadow upon you own kind
And for whose pride a million souls grow cold!
You shall reap what you have planted, and hold!
You have murdered and claimed God's permission,
And at your judgments, desolation stands;
For in your hearts, minds and souls, God has left them grow cold.
Your soldier's parish and your civilians drown;
You are the vulture, and the fist, beating on the weak.
It is ye, whose words have sickened the clouds,
Infected the rivers and the people's hearts:
Your prayers mislead, nor give good will:
Hide on the brow of the murder-Satan, or Cain.
III
Lift not your voices to the gentle God:
Your god is of shambles! Let your nation
Moan, they shall be your sacrifice to your king and deity:
Bel and Moloch, who offer fire and death,
A world in which ye preferred, with lies;
Learn now from horror and truth,
What God has tried to teach you
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