By Who's hands?

Taste of life: taste of blood.
Innocence gone by the kiss of reality.
Goodbye freedom and serenity:
Since once you are a prisoner
you just cannot win.

Stages of paranoia and stages of sin.
Scales of reality are breaking and the aching feeling
is slowly filling you in.
Hell is breaking loose and heavens in the game
of clowns,
who with their twisted kreepy faces
are fucking with your mind.

One might be blind not to see
of how sick is the way 
the world is currently acting.
Fools are joying and reacting
by throwing new plays -
certainly strange ways
works the destiny.

(That treacherous beast).

So who killed the mockingbird 
If not the mockingbird
itself?

Who killed God?

And who ordered this terrible way
the chapters of the play
are being played.

Should we all be seated,
scared little sacrifices?