It’s a cruel thing

we do

to living things,

to breed, to pose,

new sacrifice.

 

we eat

the flesh of souls,

as victims,

from the holy wars

we can't prevent.

 

there’s no reason

to address

this awful mess,

our craving sets to swell

most ghastly desires,

 

and in all of history,

what can be told,

we love to kill,

it serves our hungry needs,

lurking inside.