Author Topic: The Serpents Tale - Not many people will get this  (Read 372 times)

Ebony Bree Caple

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The Serpents Tale - Not many people will get this
« on: May 12, 2018, 10:54:10 PM »
So apparently they threaten plastic surgery upon the vics
Those vulnerable individuals who provoked the hate of pimps
The Master Of The Game was a script
Filmed specifically for the fools
Who obey with such complacency having seen the dreams of ghouls
Fame is just fictitious
Idolatry a sin
Some covet their good books and laws
Yet break them for an in
Its not about excuses
Its not about intent
The profit margin baby
Its time to pay the rent
Whether imprisoned or blessed with visions
Whether confined to blocks or stoops
Nothing could satiate the lust
No amount of blood will quell the troops
Its not patriotism
Its blasphemy
Pawns to exploit at will
For they lusted so accustomed to the savagery of the kill
The world will keep on turning just as tricks will ply their trade
The johns will go back to their farms
Their wives quickly forgave
Trespassers come and go so often
Some make it to the mount
Others are shot on sight
So many victims
Who keeps count
Do you count the hairs upon our heads before you style them so
Is it your hearts deepest desire to infect the weary doe
Do you seethe with such resentment that your fondest memories wane
When confronted with a reality where you’re no more than simple prey
It’s the corrupted mentality of fragile men
Women and children too
Who are trained to think so vainly
There’s no mercy for the few
Those of us with conviction
Who approached the fight with gust
Only to find themselves at the behest of the tyrants hate and lust
Could you definitively identify the passion that propels the cause
Does it seem to you hipocritical when all men are breaking laws
Does it pain you to accept that many innocents have fell
Into the deep abyss that confines them to a cell
Quell the shouts of terror
Console their damaged pride
Comfort them in misery
For no man feels alive
Not until he meets his match
Sparks a solem flame
Finds himself devoured by the devilish demonic pain
The principles of profit
Prophetic to the men
Who seek to prosper patronizingly knowing no man is his friend
For the throne upon which he sits is targeted by those
Who envy his existence
We are all potential foes
Ruthlessly they rustle people like cattle and chattel
Ever vain
There is no compensation for the folks within his way
Commodities are endless
As are the vices
Such is life
Seemingly we scheme to be rats racing against the mice
Eternal condemnation
So they seek fountains of youth
Pondering the afterlife
Accountable
Endless proof
Will they weigh your heart against a feather
Will lady justice tip the scale
What is unknown can not hurt you
Or so says the serpents tale