It feels so unreal that we accept this to go on, the pain and suffering that so many reduce to nothing at all I hold you responsible for the actions that you choose You can't claim your innocence when you claim power over their lives How can anyone choose d**h before life? You turn your face away from the pictures You don't want to see the horror in their eyes; you want to go on just like before Just like always Putting whatever bodypart you want in your mouth without the moral conflict I hear their screams, they are endless I see them in pain from the torture, dying in the murdermachine that you support without guilt or perspective They once had a pulse, hearts that were beating They felt, the saw and the lived So beautiful and unique in there ways How can you?