A Prophets End To Invasion

A Prophets End to Invasion They were besotted And long they stood with their clans men their adamant frenzy breaking the strain in their eyes gawping at the infamous injustice done the dangling figure hung with loop and gaudy blood limp in their half seeing light The uniformed aliens taking a stroll the curfew bell rang sharp almost brutal down the abandoned alleyways of the one time cornucopia a dirge is sung bemoaning their dear sweet concubine oh where oh where was Columbine In the hanging square this cringe of faces milled and cried show us something give us cabaret show us eternity give to us this monstrosity Voices in tune with their monotonous isolation beseeching the crystallized prophets as they rolled in tanks and armoury waving the flag of their bedlam the aliens returning once again to another hero hung from the bow of a slender tree malice aforethought grown to onslaught on the figure head choked on his fine cup of blood A crown of Apes and thorns Labeled him the shyster the pseudo man crying “don’t touch the sycophant it is taboo don’t taunt the warrior the lecher may come for you don’t dare to look upon him the dead face of our renaissance” So the masquerade was done the Christ is hung the fable has gone they are lost in their cybernetic burlesque of confusion once the satyr made his revelation but not one of them dared to look upon the face of their dead rebellion