In the cradle of mother’s bliss, man knows no fear of world, as a child
Though doomed to define the dread, this man, has the annals behind
To swear, how he embodies fear, alas, now fanatic that child, gone hog wild
While cultures submit to this orgy unkind, Satan has no axe to grind
In the killing war fields, jingoism reigns with terror, to endless dimensions
Gazing at death, a binding rite, gulping the dread to a vain sacrifice
Hate of creed, a farcical one, is it a self-doubt beyond comprehensions?
Yields a melee of horror that histories reprise, how people’s blood turns into ice
How a race is best amongst the rest, why it levies a price on a lesser clan?
In bills of fear, when it iterates, “You lesser litters of God!”, does God care?
Angst of being none, in the scheme of snobs, in the shadow of…
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