The arrogance that your snide tone presumes
fully discloses your many disdains.
Perhaps, you, yourself should have been put in chains
and left outside of Gadara, among the tombs:
among the rancid, decomposing dead,
to inhale their noxious odors and foul fumes;
to skulk among bent shadows, screaming your head
off, wholy aware that the sound of every word
that falls from your enlarged mouth is a noise
like hideous insects make and none of your peers enjoys.
For all your effort, no one listens: you are not really heard.
Yourself is what your selfishness mostly destroys.
You are a living blasphemy, a baleful blast, a bane;
upon the fabric of life, you smear an offensive stain.
Starward
[*/+/^]