What is your name? And since when have you dreamed so shamelessly without thought to the diligent right to be in peace on Earth? Where is your life, if not in the decadent splendor of your shared riches? Why have you become poor with anger, and offered only suicide to your stout-hearted mob?
I have been known to conceive a country out from the spotless lie of hidden wonder, yet I cruelly disembark from the gross unlearning of my future's childless offspring. I cook for days over the melting pot. While my stove is cast aflame, I remain transfixed by the looming sky, eclipsed under a bloody moon - The Springs foretold.