Arrogant Ignorance
How can you hold
To your poison
So tightly
And lap at its
Froth, as your
Own Mother’s milk?
Surely you see
That it calls
Into life
Nothing but
Phantoms of
Virulent ilk
They breed
Through their hatred
An army of lies
To whisper
Sweet nothings
Of famine and filth
Asunder
They tear all
The faculties wise
And bring forth
The bible of doom
They have built
Where, for art
Thou warrior
Bold
Who wieldeth
The sword, that of
Justice’s might?
Thy presence
Is needed to bleed
In the cold
To pierce
The derision
Of smog induced
Night
