to the Jungle

we’ve come for your worst, your wicked
we’ve taken the longest way
our lash is vicious but we freely bleed
we carry no gods or gold
but we keep our souls alive and hungry

we feed on our anger
we feed on your strength
and we’ll fight to just remember
the existence of these things

to the jungle, hearts humble
we go there to face
the drone of saws and gasoline
we’re sharpening sticks, but, rescind to lose
we’d rather die honest than live with this

what sort of men are these?
who say don’t kill and keep on killing
who say don’t strike and then strike first
with all they’ve garnered, all their winnings from the last ones

what sort of women are these?
who’ll save the babe but kill the father
who offer water but for torture
god send me to the jungle