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.
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