When one's defiled by hunger, pain and want,
A level's reached beyond hope and despair,
There is no need to threaten, terror haunt,
Those who no longer fight, no longer care.
What glory then to smash the poor to death?
What satisfaction? What great honor that?
What crowns bestowed? Does it increase the breadth
Of power, worldly fame to be a rat?
For rats they are, the wealthy who've laid waste
To global millions suffering at their hands.
"Oh No!" Rats protest, "You speak up in haste."
"Look at my charities; my giving stands!"
Oh, Christ did plead to give thy wealth away.
Inherit Spiritual Kingdoms. Hell assay!