​Couldn’t purge the grunge from my veins

The sewers swell with more modern age

And youth is replaced with a tinge hermit grey

If wisdom jades then surely I’m a forest shade

Solitude a solace for the sovereign of fools

A blithering duel only if I’m half listened to

Swine’s bed and sty floored by my pearls and jewels

A palace for the thickly padded fossilized poop

I’m down the rabbit hole in mother harlot’s hold

In a chalice poorly made, the elixir of life’s vessel

Further degeneration the more I take pure and whole

Crumbling down in mind, body and spirit for a toll

Ritualistic martyrdom, each generation has some

Scapegoat or passive lamb filled with peaceful poems

Offered up thoroughly to lube this lewd societal apparatus

It’s blood splats are merchandised for profits handsome

……… just surrender.

©2017 loose.leaf.lover