And what has become of us but
Shells without all fruit?
The core, the mettle, gone,
And all that's left is soot.
And how would we prosper,
How'd we even smile,
When our very brethren
We indifferently beguile?
From the arch less, mighty heavens
And our Earth's majesty,
Have we nothing to learn
From the lessons of harmony?
Yet, such we have adopted
Enmity for ourselves,
That without hurting a brother
No satisfaction on the shelves.
And they ranted on so much
About a "love" I've hardly seen,
Then they trade "love" for dollars,
And the knife comes out 'lmost clean.
And the gems in our children
Are so unbridled and "free",
That when in distractions they delve,
They're so much better than empty.
Now, what has become of us?
How much more will we deign,
Before our backs crack,
And lost - again - our reins?
