Men

O' how they all have a promise for every quarter-truth,
a quarter less to offer,
wholly embezzled to their own averages,
half-human when so lassoed by the coffer
of pillage and rubble and left their own bastardizing,
O' how they proclaim so soundly in roar
and with all artifice bore,
the receptivity to peace we endear,
and endure;
that for why we love.