Evil, twisted and perverse
You take and rape
and rip away at the soul of man
There is no peace in you
I have found no path for the lone traveller
other than the one you have provided
while mindless zombies in cocoons clap hands
and shout in nonsensical utterances
believing they own the only truth
So now they sell it for profit
to feed their bottomless bellies
There is no balance
No inkling of sanity within your walls
There is just us and the dirt.
Perhaps, there, we will find peace.
Perhaps, there, we will rest.
© 2017 The Drummer Poet