One Man is not an army
So he cannot stand-alone.
No matter how hard he fights
The ground is the earth alone.
He stands before the people arms outstretched
Protecting
Yet this group of peoples is like a fresh grown fruit.
And over time the rot will spread and death will follow through.
Why must we fight this way?
A man judged by his blood,
Is no better than a dead man.
For no matter where you go there will be someone
Someone.
Who will
not follow through!
…Someone…
Is it because they are blind?
Do you not see that every man is just that, a man.
You say the world should be an eye for an eye.
But then the whole world would be blind.
And they would be there, listening.
For the sounds of colored voices
Waiting with their machete
To slice through this turmoil
This world is soaked in blood.
When will the ground be satisfied?
With the blood we've spilled?
So many dead
And yet never enough
In this endless trail of the imperfect man