fields on fire 2

(Fields on Fire) Push an innocent man to the corner and steal his bread, burn down his house and, Mock him, and he will retaliate as a wounder lion) It is said that power corrupts and its does absolutely, For some who are holding on to golden threads believe. That they will remain eternally in power, Write their will on the walls. But little do they forger that, Change is inevitable, for that is the order of nature. Do God’s will on earth, do not use his name in vain, Said the elders, ignored by the leaders. They carried religion as a badge, but only as display, Behind the walls of religiosity, they did the devil’s work. Death and destruction they led, people asking for bread were numbed, And covering up their crimes, till the pinnacle remained visible. They ignored the plight of the hapless and mocked them, Fooled around for years and faced no real challenges. And at one stroke when the tide begins to turn, They started their machinations. Stealing bread and rights is their forte, and believed that there, Will be no resistance. But as they say, push a man to the corner, steal his bread and mock him, and he will, Retaliate like a wounded lion. Burn them down, set fire to their fields for they denied, They denied what was legitimately ours. They stole our rights, ceased our freedom, our crops were taken, And our children starved. Burn them down, set fire to their fields, for evil should be incinerated, That it may never rise again. Fire is purification, for when it embraces it cleanses, Fire is language of the Gods, for when it speaks. It burns away evil, and ushers in a new order, Corrupted fields must be alight, and the flames must consume. The smell of dead flesh should reek, and the air should be acrid, For burning them down is justice. Burn them down, set fire to their fields for they denied, They denied what was legitimately ours. They stole our rights, ceased our freedom, our crops were taken, And our children starved. Burn them down, set fire to their fields, for evil should be incinerated, That it may never rise again. Power is silken robe, the more it sees abuse, the more it tears, For power, in the hands of the evil, corrupts and turns venomous. Burn them down, set fire to their fields, for evil should be incinerated, That it may never rise again. Burn them down, set fire to their fields, for evil should be incinerated, That it may never rise again.