C         H          A         O         S

Tell me please...
If those miscreants buzzing around 
The ears. Has peace come to an end?
Are they the only dishes to serve people 
their freshly breakfast?
When will they sing a song of no-more and
Wave a hand of no return to this infidelity?

Tell those gila-monsters, those wicked lions
That bore horrible teeth in their tragic that
Their lives will perish away like an atom
In the whirlwind of desert when breeze in the 
Atmosphere hits the jackpot of peace. 

Tell me...
Who would we bear on shoulders again?
Is it the giant whales flapping in pools of 
Our wealth or the broken pieces of peace
Bloodly lying in every nook & cranny of the street?

I say this is not the faults of violence:
But a burning fire fueled by those
With great power in their hands and 
Soaked people's minds in bowls of
Deceptions and cups of woeful wonders.
With love and peace, no way for violence.