The conspicuous blood drop of a wounded man,
Can never fill the brim of an eccentric can.
That molecule of indispensable thought,
Has occasionally brought misery; but broth.
When one roams in this dark world of massacre and pain,
He can conquer everything except mercenary gain.
And when comes the real violent flood,
It leaves behind thick greasy blood,
Thoroughly soaking the surface of parched earth,
To give a vindictive human race birth.
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