To the victor go the spoils,
The diamonds and the oils,
The right to raise a flag above
A world that’s not their own.
To the losers, the defeated,
Goes an anger ever-heated,
Simmering for generations
Within each descendant’s bone.
To the watchers, the supporters,
Pulling strings and giving orders
Goes a power of oppression
And, with it, endless pain.
To the peaceful, to the no one,
Goes the best life in the long run,
Remembered in the darkness
Which always will remain.
The Daily Travesty 