Forefathers Fury

The time to shine has come,
stealing passions from dreams,
burning myself alive in reality...

What is peace?
I know it not,
another simple word,
long forgot.

What is hope?
But another dream,
words and comfort,
told to the weak.

Food for thought?
Feeding vegetables,
silently creeping ideology,
stealing from my fathers seed.

Hearing the bell chime loudly,
seeing the blood blue sky gleam,
soon they will feel my brutality.

Embedded onto electrical surges by the past rewritten.