is it still there
dark sun of bug-eyed earl
for which he will never turn
nervous laugh of tiny earthling, who sees
because cannot have no eyes anymore
or clapping of our tiny hands
in which we join our hands in acceptance of lords crimes
or silent music of clenched fists

it is more than mourning
it is cancer
with claws in heady thrill hewed
in centers of humanity’s self-satisfaction
with claws invitingly opened around the world
inviting for taste
take this
maybe for the last time
today, our children’s future is eaten

and the world is melted
there is not left and right, there is no murder and victim
there is no truth and lie no more
slaveholders and slaves both are we the same
and sad children’s eyes are not shouting us the answer
we will not turn for the sun
for not to see it’s darkness

it is possible to stand and say no
it is possible to shout
behold, there is part of me, a piece of world
seek for another