They make their cases day by day
In genetic flesh, they hide within the souls of some
They know their days will soon be done
In rancid places within their hearts of hate
they stalk their prey of ignorance dumb
 When you lay your wit to sleep,
you open doors whereas they creep
Cold hearted to the will of man,
of wars and lies of blackness be
of death, of cries for stolen liberty
They stalk to propagandize
through greedy men in sweet disguise
to control and bend you to their will
Knowledge is our only hope
to them knowledge it is their hanging rope


A revision