Stains Of Throne

Bled upon the

Seat of avarice

By the king deceiver

A boy sobbing wolf

Even Geoffrey couldn’t

Compete against the

Power hungry narcissist

Obnoxiously ostentatious

Putin’s petulant puppet

.

 

However he got there

45 rules with an

Empty head under

A golden crown using

Whatever placates

The pushover

Proletariat pawns

.

 

Not just here to pick

On individual one

His 44 predecessors

Laid down the track

For this runaway train

While the collective

Supplied the cold steel

Spikes and wooden ties

Cleared the way

Built the bridges

And blasted the tunnels

.

 

We have allowed a

Complete lack of

Our own self awareness

To usurp our power

By believing in clichés like

The most powerful man

Or office in the “free” world

When neither could be

Further from the truth

Nor “free” for that matter
.

 

Still we participate

Kneeling down as

Avid automatons

Willing servants

To chaos and deceit

While many starve

And corporments stash

Against what “they” say

Cannot be cured

.
Flogging disregard

To the rule of flaw

Under our noses

Like it does not matter

To which it doesn’t

Lest it was applied

Equally supposing

That justice is blind

It is

It can not see

The tipper of the scale
.

 

Applying its own rules

As it sees fit

In its fits of rage

Seeking injustice

By combativeness

Greed and contempt
.

 

That should a brief

Moment or twinge

Of questioning

Rectify the brake less

Cuckoo locomotive

 

.

 

Until the “Royal” we

Paradigm shifts

Differently from

What we have known

All the bleach

In the world

Will not remove

The stains of throne

 

.

 

“Dreaming about some kind of life

We say, it could have been different

But it wasn’t, because we weren’t

No matter what, it turns out the same”

– John Trudell

From “Rich Man’s War”