Sunday 5 April 2015

Golden

Those who rest
In golden spires
Cannot see rivers of blood
Or eyes of fire

Those who dine
With mouths open wide
Live to be devoured 
By a ravenous tide

Pumping your fist, beating your chest
Wearing your crown of power
Shouting your forsaken sermon
From a broken tower

If your body's a vessel
Your heart's but a cage
Bring down your armies
Have you come to plunder?
Or have you come to save?

And they keep marching on and on
With red, the only paint for my town
Your beauty parlours are full of politicians
Our Parliament is full of clowns

Causality is just a statistic 
War makes humans rhetoric
This is elected disease is already passé
But when I get to scratching 
I'll savour every itch

So mothers, don't count your martyrs
Your hands are open wide
Fathers shed no tears
Pray to an empty sky

The usual tale of travesty
The jury looks from left to right
Our fifteen decades of tragedy
Assured through media bytes

And what of the solitary pawn
Left alone with jigsaw rubble and rags
The earth is a wound, calm as a bomb
Clutch the dust that doesn't hold you back.

But can you forget that face you once held,
When there are no birds left to sing her summer song
Remorse is a product they try to sell when
The kings and queens and all the horses are gone

Because the guilty won't fall
From their high throne
Because they couldn't find
The hands that slit her throat
Today in the evening, city square
A man is going to explode.