"Avoid being divisionary and diversionary: take Dominion for The Universe paid for that already"
Follow the money
Sergio Magkitsky did,
now he’s dead
Offload the stolen money offshore,
safe from regulatory confiscation
Hide the digital footprints
tracking back
to innocent Russian blood that was shed
Don’t get looped into
a diversionary sound byte
Keep following the money instead ...
Dirty money getting laundered clean
Circulating back
into the filthy hands of the enemy
Block the flow with well-placed sanctions,
shut the door
to the underground corruption being done
Following the money
will put your life in peril
So you always gotta stay
two steps ahead
Sergio Magkitsky didn’t ...
now he’s dead
Orchestrated plots from the birth of corruption
Meticulously cunning, blue print semantics
Shadows overriding sheer manipulation
Much more to its sleeves, sly gimmickry and antics
Overlapping smokescreen piling up to its feet
Diversionary tactics, garden variety
Principles dropped, conceded an utter defeat
Distraction thirsts for blood, hounds for the killing spree
When darkness overcomes the illumination
Claiming a population, an epidemic
By the hundreds on process of elimination
Resistance is futile to such obvious logic
Retaliatory, uprising insurgence
The masses’ response with strings attached
Casted under a spell, hypnotic indolence
A fearsome adversary, no other can match
Time’s in fast changing pace, turning the wheels of fate
Right up into the very heart of society
An impending apocalypse spearheading straight
The core that dictates man’s unending enmity
The poet writes
Inspiration to remember
But also to forget
Euphoria and heartbreak tempered
Thoughts forming in rhythm
Her silent pen a river
Displaying the music of her voice
As an unguarded pretense withers
A naked vulnerability
Where weakness and strength
Face the final battle
Courageous subtlety at length
The only rules
No rules at all
An organized chaos
Leaving scholars appalled
Grant me time
To steal away
For not to write
Is a poets grave
Trapped beneath the pulls of life
This yearning for solitude demands
Oh weary garden that longs to thrive
Till up my soil to withstand
The poet writes in ever-changing style
Dependent upon the mood
Bearing witness this isolation
Where even loved ones intrude
Slow the tempo
Calm my cadence
As the mystery of language unfolds
It's essential diversionary fragrance ... Upon my soul