Capricious flower,

Wilt bloomed rose of regal thorn-tree

August Tory, pugilistic “Kane”, Ascends so sovereign heights
To absolute control and fame

None so coarse and so duplicitous Rationed, allocated words of corporate, chiefs of commerce, traditionalists, unregulated, platinum financed “Baron” crude slaves

Which fortunes drive fed cattle? Rusted sanded oil runs?
Cut of suit and twist of silken tie are yours commander

And call upon your garrisoned women, and unyielding blinded young and patriotic men of faith and God and gruesome war!

Desert Deacons, triumph on their black steel chariots in solemn times of death, and so consented madness and rapport

At your beckon, from the heights, your fathers trembling blood, old and feeble

Avenged through fire and scenes well staged by chiefdom’s regimented concierge

Imperial creed, isolationist masses of the partisan fields of material clover follow with admiration

Thinking not and not so near demise But reaping shallows of life and none so fertile fields, as raping whores, and lands of class

And not so open sided thoughts of conscience world

Follow not, without so questioning the one hundred millionth angels court from atop their golden thrones

Nothing seems so true , as to take all words as truths
And whisper in the ears of gossip, chattered lore

And fathom each and every truth
So help your children’s commune of aloof tormented souls.