The Funeral

As we all stand around,
Dressed in audacity,
Look who's lying, veiled in white rags
Of coldness, of brutality.
We walk around with wet feet,
Soaked in ignorance, in lunacy.
None holds a flower anymore,
We've machetes in our grip,
Shining from the blood
Of the one lying in silence.
The greed, the lust,
The hunger and the thirst
Of what's not ours:
They all play around.
We watch and smile
And let them dance
With the song of agony.
Soon it ends, and we walk away,
But not as humans anymore;
Like beasts, we crawl out
From the funeral of love.