Secta Of Sheep

                                                   

                                      The elite geld the strong, they
                                      promise the weak gingerbread dreams
                                      as they steal the gold right before gimping eyes;
                                      while the weak volutate in the slough of despair
                                      the rich feast upon the profits like 
                                      ravens on a rotting carcass, they slowly
                                      take away all your rights condemning them
                                      all outdated, they scourge upon the weak 
                                      like maggots, they form their secret society 
                                      and your membership is declined, you're fed
                                      the empty broth of misery and eventually 
                                      starve and decay like weathered wood,
                                      but, you had your chance when you were 
                                      young and strong, now your insurrection
                                      is but some sod of grass on an empty knell. 

                                                   - John Hardesty