Oh! Mother, see and awakening your soul,
Place lace with milk and honey become dead stagnant,
Killing in the war of vendetta to oneself,
Must to thy run from these disturbances?
Astray as things go in negative tendencies,
Not knowing what future hold in stock,
In it minds of fellow deep in dark of any kinds,
Purging the souls of his fellows.
For what he will eat which he will never eat,
In infinite mercy structured the branding yummy of life,
Men devoid to choose in hard way to settle,
Never ending as it continues to reverberate.
Those in the whim of affairs equate others to nothing,
Childish as to those in lower dance to such tone,
In manner that betray their godly being,
Sell their conscience for it’s believe in normal tune.
Curse upon curse inflicting pains and done away with,
Yet come generation taste upon it and bequeath,
Enjoin merrymaking in the expense of their fellow affairs,
Seem they phantom not the karma of nature.
Befall on them he who actions and in actions draw the our mother,
To it perils as nothing to show of,
Wonder if this same men build their paradise,
Parading to have it all in the wonderland.
Have faith the less for the next phase is certain of yummy,
But here cojones to seek for redress in hands of men of war,
Belittle yourself not for they exist without us,
In us we found comfort as satisfaction take over.