Promnesia

Promised the world

Truth wrapped with lie

Peace and prosperity

Fool’s gold

 

Our tickets scratched

Not one a winner

Empty vaults

To pay the interest

 

An arms race

A halfhearted show

An open door

A welcome-mat for robbery

 

Waving signs for peace

Is a foolish way to fight a war

Wolves have come hungry

To feast on a dying giant

 

Thoughts wasted on the foolish

Innocents to pay those tithes

Inheriting the heirloom

Of debt

 

No need for ratiocination

Feelings ooze like excrement

From their mouth

For the scant few decades left to rule

 

Tides of the south and winds of the east

Bring unchecked frustration

Entropy is a rule

Privilege becomes concession

 

Banding together

Humorously fallacious

When you cannot even trust

The man at your side

 

Life lived in vice and excess

Oblivious to the precipice

Of unchecked arrogance

Our most abundant crop

 

Progressing

Right into the corner

No path unblocked

As the blade presses closer

 

The throat of the giant opens

Crimson rain paints a picture

Of our future under a rosen hue

A spectacle for our children’s survey

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