I feel exposure from the heat of others' wounds
A broken watch on the blood-seeping earth ticks
Staring me in the eye, while a dying child kicks
And screams his last words to me, while I look at my feet
I want to run, but I'm entangled in my ruler's guilt
I cower and shove my face in mud, and I see the stars
A shimmering light of hope in a place where bullet proof cars
Shoot at anyone in sight with all their self-righteousness and might.
Death's warm hands welcome me to a coffee
To wake up from life, where I've wandered round blindly
My existence was as pathetic as the fearful guilt of a child
And my last thought was blank.
