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#semi-repost
I spot a drone today; No bombs, But with plenty o’ potential – A will to malice, To malcontent, to ****** I seek it south And at its zenith, Above dissent, And the bastion that’d never know Better, from worse. So too, I spy it over the sands And over cave, Over Manhattan, over perdition, And over “god,” over greed, Over "great," and ********* Guaranteed; A glistening, wrought silver teething, “Dead,” come one wrong, Word, or whatnot, Anything antagonist “corporate,” Our contradictory content, Blessed, this, “Complacency,” – indiscriminate. Unbeknownst and melancholy-ridden, The bombs have dropped, And for some time now, A sooner to be eternity Whilst we’ve managed nothing but The simplest of slumber; We’re lucid but one second And sheep more so the years. The flock afar-critical, As abstained become the hours, The minutes, until, “then,” Atop, “when,” Whilst we learn again to breathe, Maybe even dream, And relieve the nooses continually Knotted by others – It’s an imaginary rebellion. Sure. And I’m sure you’d agree; Yet still, I soak a nightmare’s sweat Whilst we gladly assume our Peasant’s role And as long as we do, “They’ll,” gladly assume their Thrones.
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Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC
Empire America