Trophies of living reaching into the heavens
engulfing the lives drawn within
glass walls and concrete turned into man's glory
the tallest for all those that win…
winners build towers to look down upon their minions
while those far below look on high
hoping their piece of gold will fall from the heavens
without knowing that their hopes, a lie…
a lie reinvented by all those that hold power
convincing all of us below to fight on
so the winners can build towers to shake hands with heaven
knowing they're built on the graves of those gone...
should we not ask of the reason for war as a way of explaining the futility?
