Anonymous
Macheaveli Creed
amoral greed
brotherhood of devilish deeds
born from demon seeds.
Real power roles from the darkness
of the “...Shadow’s Fist!”
Hiding in creepy dark places
from the light
sneaking
slithering
in the night.
Crawling cowards undercover
acting in cowardice
with stolen rights.
Creeping unseen
amongst the dead living.
Waiting in silence
unclean.
Leaching high
off corpse’s blood
of the innocent dead
in mockery of any religious hymn.
Slashing wide and deep
with it’s excarrabin.
To administer the viper's death sting
in crippling fright
on moonless nights.
With bellowing thunder,
and a bolt of lightning.
It strikes covertly,
undercover of darkness
in the absence of heavenly light.
The band of Brother Hood,
the unholy Creed
want you to believe
that only them,
and them only
has needs.
While the innocent
are dropping like flees.
Take heed,
bow down your heads
in total submission
on your knees,
and prostrate yourselves in defeat.
To beg for mercy
mercy, mercy please;
for the devilish Clan’s
respectful abuse and foul use.
Devouring your rights
like a carnivwhore
in a fresh meat grocery store.
The unfolding of armageddon,
in the malicious pouring rain
for the Shadow’s unholy gain.
The Shadow’s minions,
who follows the dark direction
for their vile gains
with compound expense
of the innocent’s pain.
The Shadow who owns their soul
and had given them their gold.
Allowing them to hover above,
and beyond society's moral codes.
To act outside,
and against the RULE OF LAW
for evil things are hidden
when the Shadow calls.
If you don’t have the Shadow’s protection;
your innocences will not save you,
your riches will be forfeit for the grave,
and your illustrious fame will be maimed.
Not even the UN’s civilized codes
will give you a safety hold
when the Shadow decides to act bold,
and strike you down dead cold.
An invisible ruling class,
that stomp and munch on the lower cast
who members empty hearts
are stitched together
with cantankerous yarn of dark’n souls
to form an evil gummy web of sort.
A strangling grip
administering pestilence and sin.
If you go to school
the shadow rules.
If you flee to the Police
there is the Shadow
in the midst of them
pretending to enforce the peace.
If you seek assurance in the bank
the shadow has full rank.
If you run to the court
to defend your freedom and claim your right
the Shadow will make you a sport
of an unrepresented spectacle of sort.
Beg the Human Rights
for relief of inhuman pain,
and they will cast you into Hades purgatory blob
dispensing an evil gray mist
far beyond the “River Styx”
without a slight hiss from the lips.
Try your Politicians
for they will not listen.
The dark puppet strings
are pulled from within
the deep cold burning blackhole.
Ruling the world
from their dark closet in the abyss.
Real power roles
from the “...Shadow’s Fist”
We were all fooled
into thinking the people rule.
Coned with a constitutional hug for our fleeting plights,
and the betrayal kiss of guaranteed inherent rights.
Kings and peasants
Lords and serfs
Oligarch and the human property
they sit on
in the claimed country they love to wrong.
A beast of burden none the least.
Slavery is still slavery,
and it comes in many insane names.
Try stepping on the toes
of the Shadow’s goals.
From their layer
in their spawning holes.
They will strike you down
stone cold
with a screaming gatling gun,
in the stinging rain
of laughing hyenas impacting pain.
Where Corbiest in a never ending sight
feast on cadavers in delight,
and vultures in their black white collar robes
enjoy the festival of the innocent living bold.
In a world where people are told
equality is the rule
Freedom-Rights are taught in schools.
There in the same,
in a dark corner of the glass prison room.
A blood sucking black mold
that swims freely in the world
defiling Gaia's pure green pearl.
That make widows want to die
and babies want to cry.
We may call it the Shadow,
which live in the black void hole.
Leaving amoral decaying slime
of foul stench and decadence
clinging
sticky
malodour.
That all the waters of Niagara falls
could never hope to wash off.
For only the Shadow knows
from whenceforth it came
to conquer this domain
and rule in it’s thousand year reign.
When the Shadow calls
from the cracks in the dark corners in the halls.
There is no escape
except to fall,
and lament in unsilent protest
without any rest,
and a benign defence.
Leegal Poet