The bullets you use
If I were to be perturbed,
Of these little bullets you use,
On, innocents and strangely against ones of your kind,
Countless atrocities but rarely a regret descends In your mind,
This pretense under the garb of religion,
Isn't yielding to your desires,
Furthering a private agenda of hate, intolerance and contempt,
Is only derailing any conciliatory attempt,
If your Ram, Allah or Jesus, is avenged,
Wouldn't mine seek justice, now that his people are stung,
The years we spent seeking peace and co-existence,
Lie bare and tattered,
Men and their lust for power,
In the worst form, now surmounts the Eiffel Tower,
That bullet you use against me, will backfire,
It's the soul of mankind, being battered by men in heinous attire.
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