Bury Yourself

I am at a loss for actions

Filled with a dull anger

An ever present flame

The intensity of that

Most righteous of traitors

Most upright of men

I mourn at a crossroads

But this is the thousandth crossing

Just this week

Each day reaching

The peak of evil attainable

As we build a house of cards

Plastered in swastikas

Mouth all full of wasps

Hidden beneath thin cloth

A myth once told to me, dies

A sacred cow shot in cold blood

As the boot-lickers march in their parades

As Liberty is bent and bleeding

And the forces of evil prepare

Her tender throat for the blade

What aching cruelty caught on camera

Empty are the cries

Hollow words but hallowed ground

Sanctified by John Brown

A legacy that resists

And will not be vilified

I pray that these bastards

Meet their maker swift

And die a thousand deaths

But that is the struggle of being invaded

Not by immigrants

Or Mothers yearning to breathe free

But by your own people

By the darkness in their fetid hearts

Until wickedness becomes the point

And callousness the only standard

As your own two eyes

Are asked to betray the truth

You are asked to bury yourself

A little deeper

Just to make it through

Good little worker bees

Caught in the vapor of escape

Sung softly to sleep

I don't think there is another step

To this kind of grief

There's just the anger

Only rage remains

And quiet voices underneath

Preaching the coward's bane

John Brown's body lies moldering

In the grave

But his soul must march on

FUCK ICE 2 (Bury Yourself)

Photo by Ioana Motoc: https://www.pexels.com/photo/lighted-candle-with-melting-of-its-wax-8448243/