Many More Will Die

Inspire by a Bob Marley song...

The candle that lights the the room smells like gunpowder,
Sshh,
Hear the sounds?
Nothing, its as if the world sits still,
No industrialized personification of the human race,
A supposed time out,
Necessary indeed...
While politics breed more political nonsense,
Congress debates and Trump is the mediator,
Quick!
All run for shelter from the air strikes,
Russia skylines say hello,
Smoke filling sky from smoke filled minds,
Encouraging the smoke filled eyes,
Oh,
Compensate,
Meditate,
Write,
Appro-pri-ate?
Delicate denounced sentiments deluded by power,
While people are showered in acid rain,
Plauged we impersonate the Egyptians,
Not to mention little children handling arms as if they served in Vietnam,
And we don't need stricter gun laws?
Yeah right, I guess the future is out of sight until the Republic is overrun by a fight for better life,
Whose to say what that include?
Adam and Eve were nude?
So is my vision, so all I do is listen,
And I heard them say that the world might be ending,
Suffer is jealous of doomsday,
The way it captures the moment,
Religion taunts my enjoyment of life,
Ever so often it occurs,
Mocking my habits at every turn until I drive off the edge of time,
Consumed by a atheist mind,
Yet forming an ironic religion,
Becoming a politician,
My tongue is a pistol with my words as bullets,
Shooting down every balcony on high-income streets,
Don't worry Obama this is worst than Oregon,
Chicago is not discrete!
The causes of being subtle have tumbled into rubble stepped on by the big boot of people looking for trouble and finding it over seas; or across the border,
Peeking into the hole of despair as I smell gunpowder on the air, along with ash in our hair,
Put out that f*****g candle!
So what if not affable!
Comfortable being uncomfortable!
Like a corpse in a box,
Tightly compacted unwilling to move under any circumstance,
Well...
Hiroshima shadows... Dance!!
Prance to the sound of war!
Reminisce!
Feel nostalgia on the tongue taste a modern day world war,
Innocent lives seem to worth no cents,
Rebels are at least a dollar,
Just because a cause,
Until opposition fires,
Then I suggest we have a battle if dire,
Meet me in Syria, bring your government,
We'll bring ours,
It is like I'm living vicariously through the Sunday theme,
Annoyingly becoming impatient,
Identity mistaken as lost when taken,
Roaming the streets homeless,
Try Canada for vacation...
Try, try...
A few sighs at night with a little red wine to sooth the cries,
Does it numb the pain, quieting the shame that hollars through your house?
Does it nullify the effect of death?
Does it allow you to suppress the memory,
Inadvertently adjusting to inadequacies,
Then look at me,
And say "the future of the world ",
By the looks of it,
There won't be a world!