It’s not new the succession of division,

when mounts fell into vallies,

where every cloud had sprung to dust,

and the riotous became mute.

–

Here values have dried and unrooted,

governments pursed their purses in smiles,

flags got waved to death,

and the minority choked on pride.

–

Death has come to claim its prize,

tidying up each bed,

the devils all chime with baals,

where ears are tickled and bled.

–

–