Violence a revolt that is only fueled by rage,
and casts our humanity on a horrifying stage.
The wick is lit because someone wants a change,
but in there zest for it, they can never understand the extent of the range.

Justified they pour hate and greed in this deadly mix,
unconcerned with the drug that populace will use as a fix.
Carnage of tribes and those that just are like, me and you,
and for all of our difference they have faults as we do.

The search for weapons starts then, the pillage and rape will follow,
and as the days progress, it is the blood and pain that humanity has to swallow.
There is no true warrior in need to shed blood at will,
for a majority of the movement it is searching for the victim they can kill.

With machetes they walk in packs killing man woman and child,
letting their blood lust make them wild.
Order is an illusion and there is no head to this snake that is found,
for all that is left when hate slithers over the land are bodies that scatter on the ground.

As the days stretch into months the body count tolls to staggering heights,
then when the bloodlust subsides the survivors are stunned by their own plight.
They start to walk around looking for family and friends and can’t believe what they see,
for an ocean of blood staining their towns and cities showing them what hell can be.

In the heat bodies rot and elude a foul odor that screams for an end,
and as we walk along the roads someone has found a body that once used to be a friend.
Ushering a mountain of bodies they hoist into a ditch to hide the rage,
yet as a small boy sees his dead family the pain starts him down another bloody stage.