Thistle ****** draw the blood,
Jolt from their timeless lulls.
Candle wicks singe the flood
Of ignorance infested skulls.

Watch the fair complexion
Be siren to their common eyes.
A god to provide direction,
The answer to their cries

Words sweet as golden honey,
But toxic to their souls.
The wise dismiss it as funny
Until the joke runs stark cold

Bigotry is their dole
Scapegoats on the menu
Brick walls they patrol
If you cross, they’ll **** you

Scrawny dogs lap up the brine
Of what’s thought to be milk.
Nameless number on the line
To cloak him with purple silk.

Once the throne is prepared
And the cushion well plumped
He’ll suction your air and
Have your humanity *******.