Outside is a world. That I no longer recognize. Wind whistles through the trees. And we laugh as others die. We call ourselves human beings. But were wild animals to the bone. Making bombs,guns and knives. To kill our fellow humans. We laugh at the tragedies. That other people face. Some kill just for the fun. Then laugh at others pain. When we've killed everything. That lives upon this planet. What shall then remain. Nothing more than dust and silents.