The Spectacle

With each collective fear;

the masses-blob will grow.

Sharpened quills and

quivering shrills.

The poppet writhes and moans,

and moans...

Its hard to see the fraud,

when everyone's a snake.

Blades of grass alive

with red forked tongues,

Proclaiming "Fakes!"

Can anyone be heard,

behind the locust swarms?

The fields have all been burned!

All foods are poisoned yonder shore!

And yet they praise the golden age!

With villains donning hero's capes.

It's easy to have enemies.

Beware the scarlet "phage!"

A strategy so obvious,

it perches on the nose.

A mockingbird so dangerous;

devouring as it crows.

and crows...