All is cruel. Love is only
a delicate gossamer hanging from your skin.
You wear it too thin. Your own innocence can kill
Willful knowledge is sin. The jihadists against
truth and justice have your aspirations kissed
Their plans for you are calumny against God
You don’t think it’s odd, believing in false Lords
You romance with the glamour that has no spiritual
glitter. You clamour in the clutter of subterfuge
There is a gutter for veracity deluged by the water
of hypocrisy. You are prizing this disaster of democracy.
Counting your litter of make-believe rights
Your illusions are all borrowed dreams
floating downstream, in the multitude that teems
in such cruelty. Not in the least bit asking why
you want to be trapped between the spider and the fly!
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