Scapegoat

They sighed, "The Good die young" I say, "The good are sacrificial scapegoats" Yes, I am one of them Oh, No I "was" one of them. I was nosy and noisy "They' told me I should have been quite when I had my chance. 'They' wailed, " thegood die young" But then 'they' told me I should have kept the blindfolds on, let the freakshow entertain multitude of eyes glued to their blue screens For, the world likes to wallow in their ignorance it is not my calling to ignite their souls , To jolt them out of their trance They wrapped a loop around my neck Tightened the noose and dangled me from the beam like a ragged doll, They sucked my blood dry and gnawed on my bones like bald vultures. finally, a sad familiar circus. "They' told the world that I was living a lie and my name was double standards, "They' went on tarnishing my sanity Painting my mind dark black red They narrated the usual mind rotting story, branded my soul clinically depressed, that I was too caught up in my own fame The plot was perfect Too perfect like all other "plots." The long prescriptions strewn with antidepressants, a history of cyberbullying, hate stories wafted from the morning herald, A gut wrenching climax, Like gasoline to this raving inferno My phantom of a gospel A philosophy tainted to save this "Gotham" of a society was yet again another staged melodrama of lies 'They' scattered my charred bones To the wind Chanting Nirvana and fucking RIP And a ramble on mental wellness and some third rate sympathies. My soul shattering truth spiraled in the bottomless pit of the "so called media" As a charade of an attention seeking whore Society's verdict, "My truth was unpleasant, That it burned the conscience Of the world, their world, The world loves to entertain and to be entertained in this sacrificial ritual of scapegoats to appease the matrix demigods" Another hunt, another scapegoat on the noose. The game is on.