God's Earth is Full of Evil

My brother sleeps in the arms of heaven
where the enemies foreign or domestic
do not pursue him any longer.
He died a hero.
He rests in the dream of our brighter future.

But brother,
God's earth is full of evil.

The country you died for
is cannibalizing itself.
It's not the Taliban.
It wasn't a terrorist threat.

In the wine of peace fermented a rot,
a metallic flavor.
The people drank and loved the metal.
They wanted the metal.
The sweetness of wine had grown old.

They clamp their jaws rabidly at those with open wounds.
The saliva of anticipation runs down their mouths.
They want the bitter taste of infected wounds.
They'll deprive us all of bandages to eat one of us
when our sores have turned yellow and full of pus.

I had a thought. A fleeting thought.
That I would rather have you than all these people.
If they want their mouths full of metal,
they could have fought their own war.

But I'll refrain. Your younger brother will beat this.
You died there so I can live here.

But brother,
there's so much evil here at home.
God's earth is full of evil.