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free cee

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free cee

           NO FREEDOM FOUND FOR  FOOLS

The three of us knew what we were doing
We also knew what we were doing was wrong
What we didn’t know was that trouble was brewing
But numbers made us all feel strong

We came and went within a wisp of woefulness
And had been sent by the satanic, manic and the panic stricken
Struck by bad luck and misbegotten memories
Locked in by a breeze beleaguered by torturous torment
Three thugs who dug their own graves
Holed up in canyons and caves
And laying in wait for the wails of wayward children
Friends foolish enough to follow us into the hollowness of haughtiness
We were earning little, learning little and yearning for a lot
Predicted to win
Addicted to sin
Afflicted by gin
Dope was our dogma
Pills were our pillar
Confusion became our killer
Selfishness our savior
Manifested by a maniacal master
Propaganda was our pastor
And a beast became our priest
Madness was our minister
Soiled by the sinister
Our keeper was the grim reaper
Death was our declaration of dependence
The irrational was irrigated by the ill-fated
Harangued by those we hated
Berated by those we deemed deplorable bastards
And led by those we loved
But missions too often lead to a  mistaken belief
And brethren lives become all too brief
Heathens headed for hell
Minions of misery
Misled by misfortune
And a brotherhood of blood born from falsehoods
Apostles of an apocalypse
Disciples of destruction
An ordinance pain would ordain
An affiliation of the afflicted
A congregation of the conflicted
Violence was the venue for vindictiveness
Skewered by skepticism
And charismatic craziness
While being led by laziness
Convicted, constricted, restricted, and indicted by insanity
Devalued by vanity
Born to break the boundaries
And border on disorder
Endangered by strangers
Anointed by the anonymous
Bested and molested by the malevolent
While we vied with the violent
Bitter to the glitter of glamor
Enamored by the enormity of envy
And envious of the energy we lacked
Struggling with stagnation
And empty of empathy
Three who fled from mediocrity
Only to be hated for our hypocrisy
Three including me
Who believed we could be free
But found that only fools can flee and find freedom by the formation of insignificant information

We three knew not to where we were headed
With no crystal ball or tarot cards to read
Declared as devious devils and the dreaded
While dying inside from every deleterious deed
         © 2012….copyright PHREEPOETREE ~.free cee!~

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