'In Regards to Your Sweet Taste' by Mark Palomino

In the hall of the eloquent gathering -

To these men who stood so tall and proud,
'Beware the man who bears wisdom!'
His voice, the wind; his gaze, the ocean.
...They were strong until we sat them down.

I am the culprit and you my constituent!
We kill for greed and thirst for pleasure.
Ha! Though they suffer, we do not mourn - we live to kill!
And when they die, they die in vain.

Their eyes so dull yet full of lust -
To gain a name...to be alive!
Their faces pale from the air so cold..
'Abhor your agony! Embrace your destruction!'

Isn't it beautiful?
How they grasp their life!
...and how we tease! slowly consuming it...
Oh yes, they will surely die. None will remain.

But the man still stood.
With cup in hand - his face gaunt and body frail.
His cry to God shrieked - through the calamity it rang!
"Oh my God, I'm dying to know!
As my heart is troubled and soul amiss -
Would you forgive my unbelief?"

Lonely soul, conceived but forgot;
Take this to heart, that you may noy whither:
'Not that you were them, for they were not!'
Whore hearts horde souls.

"God has forsaken us!" cried the child.
"The great 'I am' is to us the 'I am not',
He shook the earth to bring His Son,
But to us, His love, was never got."

Their breaths were heavy,
Their frail bodies cold.
One by one they fell into the arms of death -
And in our arms we kept them well.