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
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
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.