Blood on the hands

With blood on the hands
And piety untouched in the mind
We worship the things we created
In a spate of blood unabated

Blood bath and bloody trails
This is where humanity fails
We still worship in our hearts
With blood on the hands
The one we created
With the bleeding unabated.

Dying for a cause is what we look for
But judging the cause
We never for a moment pause
Humanity has lost its sheen.
And fraternity, where is it?
It is not seen.