While the next lines up to ruin what we have built, what shall we do? While the armies line themselves with steel in their eyes, what shall we say?

While we satisfy and quench our blood-thirsty ways, what shall our history be? While the fists of violence, of ignorance, of greed, of avarice, of apathy grow and turn the green to grey, what will be our excuse?

What shall we do? We shall turn and wait for the next and make excuses, and we will justify our means for their ends.

What shall our history be? It will be the long lineage of ideologues killing others with smiles on their faces and a serious stare.

And all the while days will go by.

And all the while we will flood the waters with our despair and excuses.

And all the while we will watch as we kill what we truly ought to have loved.