Cormorant Scavengers Feast
A million shells like stones in sand,
The soil painted by severed hands,
(Red)
Locusts breed in a child's skull,
A hallowed tank, rats in its hull,
(All dead)
Wars keep the vultures fed.
Friends and foes, all extinguished:
Mother Nature can't distinguish
Between a killer and a priest.
Heroes are the victor's butchers,
All their rapes and all their tortures
Cleansed by rains of gold and years of rot.
The human god mirrors the human brain.
Pray for power and material gain,
So the rich die old, and the poor die shot.
An armed cadaver on a fleshless horse,
Father Time knows no remorse
For rifts of West and East.
So the scavengers feast.
A martyred saint's but a jackal's meal,
And for all man's pride and religious zeal
Both the church and whorehouse burned.
The flies, the ants, the carrion thrive,
Hornets dig a ribcage hive,
And the world, the world still turns.
When all mankind tastes the earth,
Mother Nature will give birth
To another king of beasts.
And still the scavengers feast.
