Scottish steps pound watered Glens,
Of burnt bracken upon the Western Ends.
The Welshmen screaming thunder,
The Irish crying hard,
The English souless driving,
Our lives together starched.
Passions are erased,
The face of time is cleased.
Endless Children born,
To fated death are sworn.
Yet partents in their guidence,
Pretend to be enlightened.
Granting life to those,
To whom the truth will expose.
A life of endless silence,
Screams of bloodless violence.
Colour drained and strained,
Music tamed to derange,
The sensory deprivation,
Of souless replication,
I hate each and every nation,
This life lacks creation!
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