Final Crisis;
There was some blood lettingan unsurmountable violence and gore
Puppets and puppeteers,
With play of Ideologies and expediency folklore
Splashed, smashed and sprayed redness around
Sentinels too stood aloof, adding nothing to scene nor sound
Underneath the veneer, flourished chaos and anarchy,
Nobody however, spoke of this, silently or outrightly
The out of control randomness,
The receding grip over the shadows,
and non existent method to madness
For in denial there was a promise of green meadows.
There was a semblance of hope
an order to disorder, not noose at end of rope.
Kept the dots among dots in check
Kept gold mongers happy on top deck
Busy with boxes of death, bought and sold
Religion, race, ethnicity and patriotism
Commodities that kept rich, rich, poor in the fold
The news however was, the proverbial ship was going down
Captain was dead, sailors drunk, everyone else just clowned around.
Poetry by sagi
Read 280 times
Written on 2020-12-29 at 17:08
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