In the Shade of Butterflies
A small-minded pack of blind monsters
shatter mirrors - igniting hateful fires.
Propaganda harlots donning rancid bellows
conspiring to divide the good people
into a yellow, petrified state of silence.
The fires root ever closer-burn hotter.
Bellows pumping faster-ever louder.
The sweet stride of the good people hobbled.
Diversity of mind has been socially castrated.
The good people flee to the fleeting shade
of a butterfly the prophets call faith.
...and within that dappled faith they wait.
Doubling down on automatics and hollow-tipped Gods.
Planting cement angels in razor wire gardens.
Bracing for the tribulation- praying wholeheartedly
for the day after tomorrow.
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