I alone see the stories,
Their deceitful black lies,
Decorated with red roses and plastered with smiles
Of warmth and
Security.
Blood tarnished promises mesmerizing to sheep.
Lions will roar,
Alone in their power.
Sheep will whimper,
Clumped in delusion.
Yet the sheep gains admiration
And the lion mistrust.
A Hypocrite Monarchy.
A Delusionist Regime.
The Majority prevails
Be it right or wrong.
The Caring will suffer
And the Genuine will die,
Alone
Forever and always.
In endless Misery they cry.
