An Apple Of Dischord

Spinning globe.
Repeating lie.
God gave me an apple of dischord.
Desire gives birth to war.
And death and rain cover all.
The second hand cruelly turning.
The footprints of the tanks.
The shell of a child.
The view is beautiful from here inside this sea of blood.
I see a man talking the life of this fellow man.
The conflict is for what purpose?
Repeated history.
Stop already.
Someday, the light which resembled hope will cover the world.
The silence spreads and the human race disappears.
Even the second hand stops.
Already, it doesn’t rain.
Have you seen a woman who’s crying and hungging and going mad
with the shell of her child?
Have you seen the smile of a man whose legs were torn from him?
What is liberty?
What is love?
I can do nothing, nothing to do but only sing the song of peace.