I see now
perverts munching
putrid porridge
on the podium.
I see now
unpleasant personages
preparing to pounce
on peoples' patrimony.
I see now
war mongers
feasting with whores,
perching on madness.
Moving and mumbling
to lyrics,
lyrics of madness,
lyrics of shame.
I hear now
cries of hungry minors
huddled in arms
of humiliated mothers
mourning deaths
of murdered husbands.
I feel now
perfidy of perverts.