Senseless

Will the street flow with blood today

in response to the annual Shite's March,

to add to mounds of dead, that feed the ground , planted in death.

 

We become dehumanized by death

we  will all die one day we say, as we watch the horrors with tired eyelids, Institutionalised.

 

Our leaders sit on the blood-drenched gilded throne

guarded by murderers and afraid of their crimes

of their eyes of the children that wander aimlessly on the streets.

 

The throne protects them from their crimes of greed, death of theft, 

they rule corpulent, plotting and  scheming, to save themselves from death and pain,

death and pain will come to them

not swiftly  but surely.

 

Fresh piles are dug

for the pregnant woman ripped to death, her fetus taken

the young child butchered

the farmer killed

they die, we watch

suspended in fear, lobotomized in terror.

 

While the enforcers of the bloodbath come to us in white

dripping slurry speeches tinged with discord and division and tell we must hate to survive

the hands of the rulers are maroon with blood, their hearts darken and their lucre provides them with the peace obtained over the shores.

 

sick in thought, sick in body they strive for power for offsprings

 who regale in the ease of comfort,

resistant to resilience coked up in the dragon,

useless and greedy, useless and bloody, deadlier than their predecessors.

 

Time is the arbiter of life and time will provide the corpses of these tyrants, vilified and forgotten.

Time always wins