Son to Mother

I start no wars, raining poison on cathedrals, melting Stars of David into golden faucets to be lighted by lamps shaded by human skin. I set no store on the strange lands, send no missionaries beyond my borders, to plunder secrets and barter souls. They say you took my manhood, Momma. Come sit on my lap and tell me, what do you want me to say to them, just before I annihilate their ignorance?