Scavengers Fury

I am not the meat you supposed I am, so you have began Believing your own lies, and now will starve as punishment Nothing pure can comply with your greed, each strand Of hunger is ready to tell the filth of your predicament Riled, they do their malicious best, and you with them Your coarse tongue daggers a Ceasar's back, and yet I will not spew bile nor boast a cankerous phlegm Maggots are all too unworthy of my worthiest regret. Cast still then from asp anguish your venom wrath I will not bow, and being unbent cannot surrender To the frantic froth of spurious gossip, my path Much better will not condescend character to so blunder You being pigs that root in putrid muck and trash Will know no better than to invent fiends like your passion As if to mould me to that, demonic vipers so rash Has not comprehended how I laugh vanity in derision. Nor how each anger spread to one, since none obtain Enough of truth or pedigree to win the attention sought So now I endure beyond hell's fury the scorn of pain And yet so worthless your piled up envy I'm not distraught For lies may puff you like a bloated adder to be seen But your greater falsehood is your lack of spine, I know Your wretched lives only find meaning being gladly mean But truth outlast all misery, your lies will be your own death blow. (THOUGHTS IN PROGRESS, TO BE EDITED AND COMPLETED)