What vision is thought
Of a crafted nation
Where hope is a patch
In a misdirection
Give peace as a prize
To a novel tyrant
Yet no grasp can be made
Why violence is defiant
Blanket terms
Spread without meaning
To pattern conviction
While it draws them seething
They want identity
Yet their lives are vacant
Because the actions we have taken
Are discomposed and blatant
A people of habit
And they've justified evil
A cycle unfolding
All assuredly lethal
More eyes cast aside
More ignorance birthed
In a silent submission
A diminish of worth
Rags worn and knotted
That can no longer function
Unraveled and torn
To express its destruction
The eye of the needle
Linking the chains
A flag sewn together
Just an illusion to reign
Shine these stars
Spread the scavenger's wings
Let it soar on the myth
To embroider their Kings
A tapestry woven
To a doctrine's decree
A law forced in violence
To a land they call free
These trails all flooded
With the tears of the living
Lost in the graves
Under pavement and fittings
While the monuments last
Brightly polished and deeming
Of the force of control
And all that it's scheming
For none have escaped
From the binds of division
A sorcery cast in the mind
With precision
To twist and conform
The very heart of a person
Till they've become a product
Or lie broken and orphaned
These symbols are gathered
And all bound together
Where an autopsied corpse
Meets the mortician's pleasure
Painted and pampered
While embalmed of it's members
To be left on display
And forgotten, as memoirs