Where is, that with which your forefathers paid for peace among men?
What has your generation goto show, that could spare it the knife of eternal strife, on the altar stone of history? And words wont pay for it.
For words we had plenty, ever since the first one sparked the fire.
So know, that without usefull work done, your days of peacefull idling in the sun with yesterdays puzzles, are numbered.
This species has yet to be tamed on the day the zookeeper comes empty handed.
