..
Control is an evil god
Humans struggle to achieve it
Convince others to believe it
Belongs to such a good, deserving elite
Few, who eschew self serving acts
Behind the scenes of the propaganda machines
Hypocrital political, fanatical religious regimes,
The floundering masses cannot see so blind to the facts
History is a dark alley, changing costumes, names, places, dates
Castle hidden away in some fools paradise where nightmares dare to walk
Blandly cruel as you please to offend the light of day
Freedom trampled into sod
Power is an evil mistress
Control is an evil god
Power calls them from the cradle
Control rides them to the grave although
Perhaps not the same ones they so often rob
Protected within their inner circles of Silence at the Price of Death
Plotting the lines across the lives of all without
A doubt does not cross the brows of crows on their crenelated heights
Blaring raucous faring to the restive mobs which mill and spill the blood below,
Control is an ugly god
Power is a corrupt mistress
Climaxing upon your distress
A sneering smile as you nod
(An observation on P&C by NSW below)
Power? Alt! Who has the control?
Power needs to alternate
Otherwise it creates
cruel Gods & faithful mistresses
We all need to rest
Why sleep with one eye open?
It's your turn now!
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 970 times
Written on 2015-12-21 at 01:16
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Power&Control
Power is a wicked mistressControl is an evil god
Humans struggle to achieve it
Convince others to believe it
Belongs to such a good, deserving elite
Few, who eschew self serving acts
Behind the scenes of the propaganda machines
Hypocrital political, fanatical religious regimes,
The floundering masses cannot see so blind to the facts
History is a dark alley, changing costumes, names, places, dates
Castle hidden away in some fools paradise where nightmares dare to walk
Blandly cruel as you please to offend the light of day
Freedom trampled into sod
Power is an evil mistress
Control is an evil god
Power calls them from the cradle
Control rides them to the grave although
Perhaps not the same ones they so often rob
Protected within their inner circles of Silence at the Price of Death
Plotting the lines across the lives of all without
A doubt does not cross the brows of crows on their crenelated heights
Blaring raucous faring to the restive mobs which mill and spill the blood below,
Control is an ugly god
Power is a corrupt mistress
Climaxing upon your distress
A sneering smile as you nod
(An observation on P&C by NSW below)
Power? Alt! Who has the control?
Power needs to alternate
Otherwise it creates
cruel Gods & faithful mistresses
We all need to rest
Why sleep with one eye open?
It's your turn now!
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 970 times
Written on 2015-12-21 at 01:16
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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