The Feared Beast

It is the beat of the drum
Underneath the heart of the sun,
A piper of the people
That fills this holy sanctuary;
The monks scurry,
Their robes drag ,
Dirtied,
Stained from the ink
Of indulgences
Tipping the glass scales
With coins of lead.
Crushed berries dripping down the parchment
Trickling into this orifice,
Filling it with the milk of the wise.

I fear we’ve receded too far into the dark,
Turned into the feared ignoramus;
Long ago they suckled Athena dry,
Sentenced Tesla to the electric chair,
Tucked Locke away.

They speak without thinking,
Like robots;

In fake suits of plastic
Ball joint head and white smiles,
Their eyes are glassy and glazed over,
A metallic steel sheen tints their words,
Lies pounded into their head
So deep they turn to truth

A bomb eroded by time
Preset to destroy;
The sanctity and peace of the masses.
They are the stone,
Disrupting the silent waters
With words laced with opium,
That drip and ooze like black tar.

They condemn the innocent,
Shun the reliable refuse redemption in truth;
They laugh at the impertinent, relish their ignorance
Yet, they rise like a phoenix…