It’s getting pretty tough to ignore
all the things that you could before.
“Tune in, turn on, drop out”
has only brought us so far South.
Hope is gone, and kindness, too.
Devoured in the interlude.
Power you though you held in your hands.
Nothing ever really goes as planned.
Now, here you are.
Just another old vampire,
feeding off the willing,
and the brave.
The easily convinced,
and the stupid.
The sick,
the doomed,
and the depraved.
I bet you thought you would be different,
but everything always ends up this way.
Star-powered, flowerchild,
you’ve become the very thing you hate.
It’s so easy when you’re eager.
Such a small and simple thing,
to change the world
in your own image,
you just have to get your way.
A little more power
is all it’ll take.
Just a few more hands to shake.
A few more promises that you’ll break,
soon become a few more hidden graves.
Soon, lies become for the good of all.
You know the truth would only make you fall.
Power craves for power’s sake.
What a world you could create,
if every person were forced to obey,
dissenters burned at the stake
make such beautiful flames.
No one could take your power away
if you could just control everything.
But you can’t.
The world’s not made
to be ruled by humans, I’m afraid.
Even you are just a charade.
A mask worn over Power’s face.
Your time will pass, your kind will fade.
Everything you see will change.
Children will not remember your name,
only know a legacy of pain.
This is the world
and it can never be yours.
This world belongs to the poor,
the farmer, and the innocent child.
Inheritance of the meek and mild.
Life here is vibrant,
complex, and survival
depends not on smiles,
and lies told by fork-tongued devils
who’ve schemed over us forever.
You can sell your soul for power,
but you will be consumed
and in your final hour,
you’ll know that you were fooled.
You played a game that you could never win.
While planet Earth continues to spin,
all the lies and dreams you sold
go with you into the dark and cold.
Men who sell their fellow men
over lust for power and gold
are only forgotten
when we move on down the road.
Good night.
Good-bye.
So long.
Another tyrant’s dead and gone.
But another will rise to take his place,
and all this will start over again.
DJR – 2023
