Excuse me, Madame Égli.
Perturbation is within me.
Greater
Omnipresent
Doer,
the beginning of all.
Human is the created
of higher value.

Warrests of wars explode
like the untrustworthy
rugby balls.
Lives of civiles.
Lives of iuvenes.
Unwillingly taken away by Mors.
But the Doer...
will He stop it?

Metal and paper pieces...
a rarity I would say.
5 people hold everythingness.
95 people hold nothingness.
Earth carries enoughness.
Will the situation be up
forever? Will the Doer
reappraise it?

Excuse me, Madame Égli.
Growing up has its effects.
Dubium impono ut revelem.
The spokesmen of faith
want to defend preys
from predators.

Yet...they're
sheep-disguised wolves.
They wait until sun sets.
And feast on
the innocents flesh.
Are they the ones
who spread the Doer's word?

Excuse me, Madame Égli.
Let it be known to
your followers:
Believing isn't blind obedience.
Thinking isn't betraying.