We question the wisdom of the wise,

We stain the innocence of the young,

We blacken the purest thoughts

And we bloody the chaste virtue

Of the child.

Cruelty isn't kindness,

No matter what they say.

We question and we mock.

A taunting, perfect sneer

Liberation dies

When terror overpowers thought.

One can understand,

If one knows what to look for.

We bloody the skies

And darken the days

We curse the world

And all that fills it.

What can you see?

What can you hear?

Eyes tear, overshadowed and gloomy.

Children's silent, accusing gazes

Pleasure mixed with pain

Knowledge they should not have

Eyes meet, then turn away

Too intense, too extreme

Severity and sombreness

Who cares?

Who worries?

They do not know

Only rage and hate boils inside them

Innocence dies under the sword.

No one to help, no one who loves.

Stains, Stains and more Stains.