Anarchy

When more are trampled over, gore's a chore, not lore.

Whims and fancies shall seek refuge

In the annals of time, but not flesh and blood.

For now, prone is the crone before the gaudy whore.

A megalomaniac dreams of a singular kingdom

Democratic bums think up new factions.

A continuum of politics, its jaundiced eyes seek

Amidst anorexic multitudes, gluttony and grease.

More autonomy for the few spineless

There's freedom on a leash for the oppressed.

Guileless kids wave flags, new sweetmeats for all

Troubled is the sleep of newly awakened droves.

Down the aisle, of aimless shame

Apathy and avarice walk hand in hand.

Fall by the wayside, pungent promises

Blooms through concrete; a flower, incendiary red.

The wind is buffeted by unblemished philosophy

Pamphlets, bullet riddled drift in the slipstream.

Giddy on impotence in the taverns of reality

Drinking up the lies, can't stomach the truth.

By a muster of arms, by the show of hands

Follows a pregnant pause, the interlude.

On the Ferris Wheel, the white rats halt.

At twilight, don't know, whether dawn or dusk.

What is outrageous now, was admissible a time ago

When the mascara's off, she’s still, but a whore.