inconsequential…

had you known the truth
you would have refused to die
for freedom’s facade
your final flag draped coffin
would hold just their empty lies

 

 

free will…

outside an open grave
sun burns a man’s rotting corpse
there’s no one to grieve
dried fingers clutch coins of gold
he dug this grave years ago

 

this most foul strange and unnatural…

the serpent that stung
thy father and thy mother
now wears death’s red crown
was a forged process their deaths
gold coins were all that mattered