Poison Porcelain
By: Myron Penwell

Over this velvet draped window.
Where constant oppression strives,
Cries from unstrung heavens,
Rarely touch the skies,
Whispers of valiant dreams,
Curses of gallant lies.
Now is the time to release your spirit,
then justice may thrive.

Voice!
That vast free rhythm.
Dance!
To the music of hell's delight.

Open your mind to a diverse plane,
Let knowledge melt those frozen chains,
You will begin to realize these are brittle pains,
and only contain the vain.

This prisoner of poison porcelain,
Whom you shall celebrate,
for you will see,
Evil.
Using the young,
to dictate your reality.