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Poem

Tomorrow came a day too late
Held fast beneath a Tyrant's hand
Who lied in Corporate "Double Speak"
With blooded swords and lightening bolts
In languages forgotten
Long before the thunder died
And mushroom clouds filled up the sky.

Look down to Middle Mountain Keep;
The inner city walls are breached beyond repair
The sounds once heard were always those of commerce
The energy of congress
The joy of profits golden and secure...
But nothing grows here anymore;
Nothing lives here anymore.

Behold a fortressed, fallen dream
Raining greed from bone bleached hands
From barren fields of dying farms
And clouds of death from poisoned lands...
Rejected psalms denied by despots and jesters
Wielding Power like a Scythe...
But taxes on their glory gather manifest 
One hundred thousand fold or so last count;

And the Middle bears the weight alone
The weight of fraud...the filth of doubt.

Bound up, no doubt in tasseled ribbon braids of conquest
Surrounded by Ammendments and inalienable rights
Tossed like garbage in their wake...straight in our face.
Reminiscent of Ozmandius - royalty's forgotten names...
Musty, shallow birthright claims of grasping need
Of this part of the world -- or that part of the world;
Might is right and all must march
To whatever tunes they care to play....

And the Middle sings their songs alone.
Too big to fail...too  big to go..
A cancer dressed in silk and lace
Worship Corporate blessing on the few
A new religion risen bright and new.

So, pay your blue blood Rites of Passage
Flightless birds, reminiscent of the DoDo,
And grab yesterday's last offered chance...
While you blindly walk on traceless feet
Straight into Sorrow's Lance...

And the Middle bleeds alone.....

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