BLINDED HIERARCHS

Come on, hierarch, wave your flag.

Let them realise

your irrational elan,

your filthy essence,

your fake pride.

Let them strike

your deepest frustrations;

unregenerate detestation.

By you we're despised. 

You use Fire in vain

to smoke your soul,

to soot your face and arms.

to burn down what you don't own,

for the sake of a land whose god

you claim you've become.

Keep waving your flag.

Blinded hierarch,

You, who unleashes your wrath, 

who smashes into everything and everyone

like a runaway train.

What's your game now? 

Whom are you trying to avenge?

You rejoice in triumphalism,

your loathing is a truism.

You abhor those who are different.

You exile those who are deferent.

Blinded hierarchs,

they're abundant, they're redundant.

They fight in the name of 'their property',

as they sink deeper ​into mental poverty.

Don't let this be your guidance 

Blood - shed for pride.

Blood - shed for lands.

Blood - shed for sums.

You yearn to be purified by tearing everything to pieces.

You refuse to learn

that combatting aversion by means of aversion

will only perpetuate this traditional perversion.