Parasites of tragedy

Fields now turned to graveyards with what’s fallen from the skies,

In a land already plagued by words that wear a dark disguise

Conflicts spectre once again plucks innocence from its stem,

the consequence of manufactured views of us and them

 

But soon the hawks descend, attracted by the scent of blood,

their cries that soon drown out the sound of mourning in their flood

Hijacking emotions to steer opinions where they choose,

shitting on the dead they turn to bloodsheds newest muse     

 

Pointing fingers wildly, all forked tongues and accusations,

another call for conflict built on poorly laid foundations,

History always repeats if we ignore what’s gone before,

the lies that saw the young go marching off to die in war

 

Parasites of tragedy that cling to hosts in pain,

and twist it to deliver death, and do it in your name

Pawns traverse the board that’s soaked in others anguished tears,

whilst your grief is used like petrol on the embers of your fears