Rattle - 2010/06/01

There is a sliver of sweat running down the cheek,
Of the pitiful cowering fool of which I now speak.
He hides from the world in a state of the art way,
Ignoring the truth by listening to what they say.
Like a colony of spiders they feed on each other,
So eager to deny as they devour their own mother.
Yet all their weapons and wealth cannot protect,
Their circle from the truth they work to deflect.

This fool he cries out "Will you let me survive?"
As I pull the trigger of the plan he contrived.
Yet the light of thousand and one burning stars,
Is not enough to reclaim that what was once ours.
Guard it you cannot for I will soon take it away,
And those who attempt to intercede I shall stay.
For it has been lost and it is too late to try,
So join hands dance and chant "Deny Deny Deny".

The accused stands fast and sputters out "Why?"
As I direct him to watch the whole world die.
He begins to sob as he awaits his final fate,
Not realizing I will leave him with his hate.
For killing is not my purpose just your pact,
A consequence of you denying this simple fact.
Fate is not your enemy it follows any battle,
Even if it manifests as a global death rattle.

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