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Bastards

We call them by name

Cowards

Peering through the shame

Blowhards

You know they’ll have their way

If the

Chips fall where they may

You know they’ll leave us tarnished

If we don’t pry their strength away

We must be the antidote

To their contagion

It spreads like a virus

from sea to sea, through distant lands

It feeds with no conscience

a callous greed, for which it stands

It cycles among us

from vein to vein, spread man to man

It kills without prejudice

A malice gleaned from bloodied hands

Weaved of the thicket

Trance of the wicked

Time of the essence

Return

To the land that was lost to us

Steeples

Erected pierce the sky

Madmen

Bleeding the coffers dry