Withered Words Spent On Nothing

But an emptied discourse on violence, Deranged ways at a repulsive killing Is a warped pursuit of Indolence. Wasted lives on a famished endeavor While their land has a 17 trillion debt, Their time, gifted skills are held over By a sickened endeavor on ways of Death. A culture that breeds such psychotic people In time reap disgust and due ridicule, For nations will rise and will be able To enslave these insolent little fools. When wrong is upheld and unduly admired Their empires collapse and then go barren, A cursed lot they will sink in the mire Of the lost and impoverished, the forsaken.