A Lazy Man S Prophecy

To those who measure the depths of their power, In the fathomless pools of tears of the oppressed; To the human hyenas that gorge themselves full, While the sons and the daughters of the incarcerated, Battle with the sharp arrows of hunger and dearth; To those who appropriate to themselves, Mother Earth’s allotments to the destitute; To the dragon-mouthed whose fiery flames of hatred, Sear the reputation of the guiltless; To the puckish tongues that uproot family trees, Wresting the blossoming babes from Pa’s loving arms; To you all, Satan’s scamps; I say and say again: The wrathful wind doth gather the celestial armies; And the saintly swords of the beleaguered, Will chirpily chaperon your souls past the netherworld.