Stockholm Syndrome

You thought it would all

just go away.

Your supplication

and patent virtue,

would buy your way.

If only you could whore yourself

a little more,

you might just get a place

with the other

charlatans and masqueraders.

 

Those who hold you down.

Their boot upon your neck.

You yearn under the yoke

of their oppression,

to be just like them.

 

A little power,

like a bullet to the head,

goes a long way

to corrupting a man.

We all say,

we’d do it differently,

then we do it all again,

and again,

and again.

 

Jealousy and hatred,

spilling out

into the clear.

Motivated by our best intentions,

and

hijacked by fear.

 

So easily manipulated,

the slave master

and the slave.

The slave becomes the master,

and we live

through this disaster

again,

and again,

and again.

 

So far,

all we have done,

is repair the road to Hell.

The sun will rise

in the morning

to shine a light

on our destruction.

 

We will look solemn,

and we will say the words,

but the fear will linger on,

and the fire

will still burn.

There are still

more pages to turn.

 

 

HG – 2020

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