no triumph decorates any bloodbath...

There is no victory in wrath...
No triumph decorates any bloodbath...
But still how we bring out daggers to kill
Still how our hands we with poisons fill...
And be a dictatorial brute
Order a class of people to shoot...
Another class of men the same
With blood still red...
Our same boat brethren...

O how we just shorten
Lives of men and women...
Thinking perhaps by doing that
We would live for centuries flat...
At the discount of blood in our hands
We hope to wear and march with garlands-
Of heads we tore out of lives
Of our bloody swords and sharp steely knives...

But history has its own course...
It surely brings in terrible remorse...
It delivers within a very short time span
A lesson of retribution properly by Him planned...