The Wolf

He’s going to try his old methods,

To obfuscate the throng of rural people in order to capitalize on their idiocy,

He’s present himself “holy than thou” to make them believe that they’re protected,

From the ones insidiously-

Supplying moxy to the wretched.

He’ll speak in riddles,

They’ll hang to his cloak,

The attendance will the triple,

The governed once believed it a joke,

His discourses are brittle-

As he forces his hearers to choke…

He’s a monster,

In warming mantles,

They invite his new blight that gives life to parasites,

Granting poison via tongues,

And confusion to the young,

Good peace forever none,

Speak now forever done,

Promise the damaged forever fun,

In lands of nights and never suns,

The poor-man’s intrigue,

Latching tightly to the folly,

Music to the ears,

And verve to the body.

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