What kind of abomination would it unfold
If you combine a soulless one,
With someone who has a soul.

What kind of diversity would it unfold,
Would it fight? Would it run?
Would it kill or just survive,
Would it plead? Plead and beg
Down on his knees cry and weep
Or just run;
Run and hide, on top of hills,
Deep in caves or in open fields?

Would it talk?
And if yes, what would it say?
Judge us? Curse us?
Would it hate, or love us?
For the last one, I wouldn’t bet.

For it is made of me,
It is made of you,
It is made of us,
Of our abominable, unloving selves.


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