Above black priests
raised hands
darkening beliefs
stitched to clothings
tormenting bodies
reminding of their distance
to divinity

I can´t see more colors than blood

below green flags
creating their own sea
armies of stonehard fists
chaos of voices
whitening eyes in blindness
demanding death as justice

I can´t feel more than pain

In scattered holes
once reminding of streets
painted with blood
and disastrous hate
sharp egdes of questions
cuts through hope as they fall

I can´t sense more than death

It´s a vicious game of love
giving sin a holy sign
claiming hate a sense of good
praying for no more than hell

I can´t beg for more than understanding