The Giving Blood

Prophet warriors and profiteers of fur
Frolic naked through the oceans
While sand evaporates from the shore
Black mist thickens into a material sky
As you outlive the unborn self of someone else
For whom you'll never have to cry
From the clay we are risen
And the impurities we covet are kept to divide
In an arm's race, lacking the length to embrace
The earth we obtain to occupy

By warlords and oligarchs
Corporate parasites are fed
You'll hear it in the rumble of malnourished stomachs
Where flies emerge from the pit of manure
And swarm around the mouths of the dead
It's the filth of riches, the graves of decaying children
As they swim down by the river they're sold
No access to ownership, no rent to afford
For the well was never opened
Nor the school for self-preservation
When it seems prevention's an unattainable cure
Iniquities of neglect bleed in silence
By the hand that grasps but does not reach
Outwith wept tears of idle empathy, trapped by fear
And time financed for aggrandisements
Still I hear you calling my infertile desires of freedom
To impregnate the endangered womb of yours

Indigents cling to the damaged strands of time
Below the blood funded kingdom of wealth
Where the rich leer down on delinquents
From the hills of the wise, who witness the opium king
On the underside of dominion, surrounded in death

Who'll pay the bills for the sick
And who'll pass one to provide
An apposite chance to let live
And not have to watch your love suffer
As she lays in your arms to die

Each cut leaves its mark
But rarely is the pain truly depicted by the ensuing scar
Or the release enough to sustain
Scratching the skin, you can't fit in
While letting yourself live for the giving blood