Transparency.

It doesn’t become you, dear…
the façade behind which,
you run your operation;
the way you slither about in the grass,
drawing in the vulnerable as you pass,
to wound the wounded –
is your only obligation;
it’s the pitiful display of need,
that infuses each implanted seed –
passed around like bread,
throughout the broken nation;
think of those who you’ve duped –
the fools who blindly follow you,
you’ve built a congregation,
haven’t you?
An army on beaten up hearts –
many men in cuffs and shackles,
defeated by your empty promises,
ready to fight for your salvation;
but weakened to the core,
unable to stand up anymore –
what kind of army refuses,
to leave the feet of the Queen,
that they fight for?
I will tell you –
an army of drones,
dark, abandoned homes,
a legion of poor bastards –
who’ve been blinded by you,
by the lies that you tell,
the ‘save me’ song and dance,
you play so perfectly well –
the meshing and molding,
the bending and folding,
it’s all so obvious as Hell;

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