Delivered from the lights of heaven
and strolling earth with the likeness of God
suppressed by society’s sanctioned sins
convulsing norms and gospel’s grounds

Mother of many but with no womb
hands are dainty as the flowers in May
holding the bodies on the bloody parade
Flags torn down on the streets of relentless

broken pieridaes disperse as they witness
hurricanes and tides in the eyes of rejects
veins gripping to the yellow-stained wood
waving rights for the old and the unborn

demoralized on an eight-colored battlefield
fairly created with mere civilities
far from triumph and discerned worn-out voices
unlawful conduct continues towards the outnumbered

still glorifying an act of hypocrisy
while religiously holding victims by their throat
Pointing guns seems to be a heroic gesture
when a man in a dress sparks rebellion on a hostile order