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Tuesday, 22 May 2012

Who Needs Enemies


Forked tongues, twisted words, the blade turns
One lung for allegiance, the other reeks betrayal
Coursing through your body, the venom burns
Festering beneath your self-righteous indignation
Hearts callous, soulless and selfish
Absorbed and obsessed with puerile self admiration

The minions weep and fawn at your troubles
Smothering you in warmth, soothing words for your ills
Hand-feeding you the seed, your craven heart bubbles
Jack-booting through the lives of misguided fools
Weak-willed they comply, bow and scrape
Trampled under cloven foot, their words, your manipulating tools

Professing solidarity, family, you wait, you pounce
Wordsmith’s daggers plunge deep into unprotected flesh
Ripping away humanity and dignity, ounce by poisoned ounce
Intoxicated in the heady stench of your own whine
No-one shall challenge the imperfection of your realm
“All minions are as one, all your words must be as mine”

The mesmerised throng muster to the vindictive clarion call
You’ll quench the bitter taste of bile, and gorge upon the victim,
The one that dared cry out against the keepers of the hall
The one who dared question the fealty of your acolytes?
The Chamber of Perfection? The Ministry of Adoration?
That venomous pit of vipers, your thoughts The Shining Light

Cry out against the multitudes preaching from their world of delusion
Ride out with the banners of honesty raised high
Challenge the misconception; blow away the mists of confusion
Prepare your defences for the storm that approaches
The verbal diarrhoea that undoubtedly will fall
Stand strong. The faithful servants swarm like roaches

© Fergus Martin
2012