The gold,
it beams,
despite the slaughter.

The people
adorned in blood,
wearing the polished essence of humanity,
animal skins on their bodies,
human blood around their necks,
splashed on the wrists,
dripping from the ears.

They know not what they do.
This changes nothing.
It helps not, the children,
the parentless ones-
the innocence lost,
will always be gone-
and no one,
no one,