Terrorist Song

Vintage Words


Not paradise, a nice idea

but only manufactured dream

that falls apart when you wake.

Rapture is a hoped for reprieve,

but eternal bliss can be found

found nowhere here, or hereafter.


Zealots as ultimate destroyers 

fall short of their goal and just

die. What kind of fanatic desires

the world gone. Wait long enough

and civilization will do us

in with a chorus of death to

everything alive.


If a match could be struck or

a button pushed, ending all

existing life forms, would

dead and diseased souls be



Divide the world into segments

of havers and avarice mongering,

ideologist, pessimists, lovers,

and savers. Then hope to not

reap it bigtime. Let one billion

people simply be assigned to the realm

coded: I forgot about them.


We sit back comfortably blaming

anyone but ourselves when a human

is created to kill after bombs

have destroyed someone's entire

family and nation. The poor

and vengeful will always be

with us. Created by us.







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