Colin F. Jones


Is it just another war, the culling of the flocks,
To balance histories time, on repetitious clocks?
Are we in control of what we do; justifiable sin,
Or is choice an empty word, over which we cannot win?
Is religion our excuse for being always right,
Knowing the sun always shines, on the other side of night?
Is the destructive germ instilled, to ensure that we survive,
That the hunter must always kill just to stay alive?
Fear of death, plants the seed, desire makes it grow,
The leaf fall to renew; new growth from lava flow.
And dogs and cats and elephants, and dolphins as well,
Do the same things as humans do, without creating Hell.
For they all kill each other that their numbers don’t increase,
Beyond the size of harmony, the conflict of natural peace.