Will the bard once told us:
"Music hath charms
to soothe the savage breast".

But who will sing the verse and chorus
to spell a world in disarray?

In this twisted season of idiot's tales,
our aching oversoul cries out
for sane and cooling anthems
to still the throb of molten *******
fevered with fratricidal pride.

Author of the cosmos, soothe us now!
Whisper dulcet songs of peace in our ears
that none can deny or misconstrue.

*July, 2015