Trash Candle

I found myself drowning in a sea of people
Map markers ascribed to each one of their steeples
Under the pretext: all men are created evil
Equipped with equine engines to labor for legs feeble
Following the mind's eye, blinded by lies
The path, forked like a serpent's tongue
Laugh, the lord of the flies'
Weeping saviors savor seductive antitheses, woe,

Planting seeds of death in the ground where their bodies bleed
The birth of the end, the genesis of null
Haven't you heard we're the herd that was born to be culled?
Old news new ears and we hear while we're here
The scene and has been seen and replayed by the years
The cast called for cattle and we did not disappoint
The first to go gifted us martyrdom and saints to anoint
The purest intentions pave the roads on which we travel
Is not the point of a spool surely to unravel?
In many ways, there is an endearing cosmic candor to it
And we may marvel only in ways in which we can be fluent
Current themes scream prudence
Please excuse if I'm crude, hence
Call the cops,
I'm bleeding maggots