and God followed me with a blood on his hands

the kind that seeped and retreated like a freed tortured soul

His ambivalence of us reaped His suffering, what a Man

down my own road He followed, the gutters swollen

tide was coming in, the ocean filled with red regret

people didn't try to swim, they understood consequence

but did they understand the path that lead them there

back home they thought it was a joke

there were slash are no linguistical barriers

to where do they look for such injustice, such influence

origins of red sea, I'm flooded with interest and boredom

when is it enough, when do scars heal and why don't they

playing hopscotch on wounds superficial

perpetuating social intolerance to a new low, supported by millions