He Wouldn't Like This Title

He’s a menace of the masses,

A connoisseur of the classic malaise.

His tepid thoughts are drowning me,

His silence is the loudest word.

His desire to undermine the world

For the sheer result of boundless bliss

Is but one of his idiosyncrasies.

To see him is to see the sin in yourself.

His voice is vexed and distant,

His eyes eclectic and not his own.

If he were to fall, his legion undone,

The slam would shake the Earth

Until it’s rattled with reform and

Clinging to whatever’s close enough.

He leads the unsuspecting sun

Into an everlasting night, no remorse

For the subdued days of empathy.

Darkness fares much better with him,

It’s the taste that lingers on his lips.

And when all has been forgotten,

And the now replaced by never,

It will rain from skies above and

He will reign from depths below.