My eyes still see the altar of pest and lie to the illusory thing with statue in the middle of the cross crowds of a scared nations pray for express of their sins every nation to his altar every nation to his statue I don’t want to cleanse the worlds consience talking with statue I feel the pain so much I worship you – infected heaven I worship you – insensible dirt guns I worship you – Gods on the statues My heart is crushed to sandy pieces. I don’t ever see the emptiness of heaven so high I trampl of real, feelings I am not a God but I see dying children every day deformed burnt like thin paper Flames of my crying eyes won’t burn the hell all Gods are deception and the world is still bleeding