The Killing Silence

I hear it in the idle chatter of nostalgic old men. And the rasp of a full bird colonel who says, “They're all terrorists. It's either us or them.” He sets a chiseled gaze at the camera,
clears his throat, and then... I'll be God damned if I split my budget
with those goldbricking old men! I hear it in the announcer’s voice who laments, “It’s a slaughter... down by seventeen runs! Our Cubbies aren’t coming back from this one. Unless they pull out the big guns.” I hear it in the lies of the shopping network pitch “This is real Tasmanian chocolate brown crystal shit. Thousands above what anyone sane would pay for it, and it’s a ring pop so you can all suck it. Back in a bit.” I hear it in the bake sales, and fall fashion lines, and every mass shooting survivor who cries, “Give up your guns. Guns took my best friends lives!” Cut to the studio anchor wiping her misty eyes “The whole nation is mourning and paralyzed.” I hear it in the sermon of the Pastor
who speaks on the Sanctity of American life. Brits, and Canadians, too,
because God loves those guys. Praise God! and Open your Bibles to Genesis, Verse 12 in Chapter 25.

"Now, these are the generations of Ishmael,

Abraham's son, whom Hagar the Egyptian,

Sarah's handmaid, bare unto Abraham:

And these are the names of the sons of Ishmael,

by their names, according to their generations:

the firstborn of Ishmael, Nebajoth;and Kedar,

and Adbeel..."

[Fades to silence] Half a world away a bombardier has Ishmael’s DNA in his sights. Praise God! We got those guys! The secondary must have been a mile high. High fives! I hear it in the certain voices of petty crusaders as they externally moralize and internally self-aggrandize. Saved a soul while a family dies. An acceptable price. Pass the ammunition and Praise Jesus Christ! Ain't that nice? The killing silence where we demonize, commit homicide, and cannibalize.
When you stand before the Throne, what will you say? I tell you the truth, you will rue that day. I tell you the truth, that you might understand. The Stain of Cain is the blood on your hands. Remaining silent is a guilty man’s Right. Take the Fifth its a value equal to the real Tasmanian chocolate brown shit.