You revel in inequity
Inequity is your womb
How dare you even speak?
Your hand has been too busy casting stones
When all the while
It should have covered your shameful face
Oh yes, we saw you
Yes, we saw you

You bless with wounds that never heal
You heal through wounds beyond any blessing
Crime-turned ambrosia oozes
Through all the pores of your skin

The paths you tread are the sons and daughters
Of the wound that festers forever:
The wound whose pus nurtures everything
The wound whose pus nourishes all

Your civilisation is merely a fleeting attempt
At taming the beast
As you cannot fend off that ageless urge
How sly you are to channel it instead

Your civilisations stand as monuments to perpetual discord:
A boundless will to power over the infinite
Culture, civilisation, culture
The forever-festering wound
Would have it no other way