lungs full of springtime

The anwers cannot be found when explosives are used to re mold artifacts of the petrified past
and terrorize peasants of the present.
Wars of the 20th century seen on tv
ghosts murdering ghosts
wondering what it is , what the is is that assembles masses of humans with minds set on murder-one.
Righteous from the get go to the lowering into the hole with full honors for the donors of blood sacrifices.

Staggering in the smoke for a glimmer of hope in hell in the battlefield brought
to you by the folks with that certain something that brougt you the Battle of the Somme
All in the cause of picking plums in the battle of business as usual.

some blue book or red book or maybe just flyers pinned to the trees in paradise by the devil on patrol,
with instructions on havoc for the hell of it
the code imprinted on brains and digested by DNAs.

More and more murder does not a human make
that's the fake end of the spectrum of where what's human freezes.
Holding breath with lungs full of springtime
eyes full of seasons tender to the touch
the gore for gold fever quivering in a vision neck deep in it's own disasters.