Rotten Core - 2014/03/25

Jesters beckon chuckling all along the way,
Yet they know not what it is that they say.
Words of reason fall upon their deaf ears,
For no logic can overcome these old fears.
There we sit face to face yet a world away,
As this is a part I no longer wish to play.

High level thinkers not interested in tact,
Immune to every distribution of basic fact.
Yet here they are pulling on frayed strings,
Unaware of consequences wastefulness brings.
How does one explain that their end is here,
When the dogs in power don't anywhere near?

Their words are like weapons they cannot use,
And goodwill offered by others is now abused.
Their ideas are as children without genitals,
Yet they name them generals with many medals.
Their world is one that I shall never access,
For this is a sickness that I cannot address.

Now I sit here transfixed by their disaster,
While each day the descent goes a bit faster.
As the truth becomes less and less deniable,
The power we know becomes even more defiable.
So that when the inevitable end is unleashed,
As our equals their power will have ceased.

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