Lulling the sheep
To sleep
The mesmerizing hands
Of the puppeteers
Poem
Ashes
When the lies never stop
When revolution becomes the puppet of the top
When your promised future is just lies and slop
We are left with not but ashes
Proceed
The crumbling artifice
Whose bellows wheeze and groan
Black lifeblood spilling in spurts
Shuddering its final days
Abandoned Deserters
Old honor
Held in the den of thieves
Dark deeds overshadow
Dark thoughts in the cage
Lying Eternal
A hunk of meat
That once held dreams
An open mind
Splashed against the back wall
Paradigm
Harken the cries of a new era
Artifice meets opportunity
Finding new horrors
Generating a new paradigm
Disparate
When worlds collide
There is always cross-pollination
With worlds so disparate
It is seen as cross-contamination
Paradox 