Civil genocide, is hiding in plain sight;
it’s hard to know of late, what’s wrong and who is right.
The devil laughs and grins, this savouring delight,
and when the time then comes, we’ll know this was his plight.
The voters plan and scheme, and foster his mistrust,
the virus spreads, to all it seems, proliferate disgust.
Pedantic scars it leaves, on children of our tribes;
misguided factions scream, unheeded, pleading cries.
Elected those, that speak in teams, as to their weathered ends;
as if they can then, thus defend, their pointed staffs’ contend.
They bard and burr, their talking points, impaling all our lives,
as if it was to end this way, was what for we’d contrived.
One team extorts, the truth; this ignorance is bliss.
The other team, that has the proof, continues to insist.
Another one that games the two; is laughing at their fall, and in the end the folly wins, as happens to us all.
This death will reign, until our tears, have drenched all that we have. The devil scathes and rakes our fears;
consumes them, as he’d planned.
This prank we tell of, not to warn us, of our troubled past, it happens to us, every day, the trickster’s here,
at last.
© 2020 Dayglow Black. All rights reserved.
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