MIASMA
Come, dear forefront smile,
Snicker as I inherit the wind,
Watch my faith doodle for a while,
On your shifting sands of blatant sin.
Come, dear sidewinders of writ,
Let me with no choice, lies embrace,
Let beneficiaries taste false grit,
Our close hearts fooled by a social face.
Tantalize me with procrastination,
And hit me dead centre with living lies,
Let me watch power distance of no action,
And hypocrisy rise and truth murdered, dies.
Yet, the perfidy is predictable prophecy,
A reaping at mellow joy gets the purge,
All for that one discarded sagacity.
All for that fall into apathetic urge
An afterthought!
"Now is it not shameful to ask where power is?
When your feet are standing on it? "
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