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Ileana Amara Apr 2020
The Devil wears a condescending Crown of Aristocracy.

Behind the beauty of the aristocracy he led,
and sometimes romantic and eventful lives he savored,
lies a darker story: a legacy of deception, violence and unrepentant greed.

An aristocrat whose ground are his virtues and talents and pain,
Pouring one mischievous ingredient after the other,
All for a play of exploitation and influence,
The Devil has passion, but barely a soul, thus an erroneous aristocracy he rules over.

He was beautiful and ******;
Blemished in earthly pleasures and loss of his prodigious being,
The Devil lacked emotion and acted upon logic until he lost his heart,
His crown was adorned with half lamentation, half echoes of his past, out of dark menaces.

IA
OpenWorldView Feb 2019
Rule by the people.
Depraved by politicians.
People by the rule.
Sean Hunt May 2016
You are hidden from view
You don’t see me
I don’t see you
This makes me nervous,
You see
I know what you have done
Through history

The wars you’ve caused
The blood you’ve shed
Down so many streets
Rolling heads
Armies and power
Rows of stones
Crosses and flowers

Court jesters
And child molesters
Clowning around
Bishops and criers
Lingering liars
Towers and trials
All of the arrogant
Baying and praying
For a male child

****** horsemen
Hunting with hounds
We no longer want you
Around

Sean Hunt  May 5  2016
An anti aristocrat rant
Sean Hunt Jan 2016
There is a weird
And not so wonderful fetish
Particularly British
Common
Amongst commoners
In the United Kingdom

Although the aristocracy
And royalty
Are seen by all
With eyes to see
To have behaved
Abominally
Tortured and twisted
Enslaved, enchained
*****, re-shaped
With bloodstained hands
The entire planet

Sending ordinary
More innocent
English men
To do their ***** work
Their dastardly
Disastrous deeds
As slaves of knaves

Through common British eyes
These horrible people
Are placed high upon
Holy pedestals
Romanticized
Idealized, Idolized
Canonized

Perhaps there's some
Vicarious thrill
Exercising
Enforcing
Power and evil will?

But the hand no pleasure gets
When, through rubbing, wets itself!

Sean Hunt
Windermere January 1st 2016

— The End —