Prophets

A bitter taste
Without much haste
Such a waste
A pity
They built this city
So pretty

Little hands and feet
A throne they unseat
How elite
They feel now
They choose to allow
A vow

From each and every one
Or else they shall be gone
So fond
Of the utopia made
The price they believe they paid
Darkness fade

Away to the next cuts
No longer live in huts
So what
For now they make the rules
Those who have the pools
No fools

The city is now ours
We drive around in fancy cars
Nice bars
Tip a hat to him
A finger to the rim
So slim

We made this into perfection
The perfect selection
Reflection
It’s better that’s for sure
We haven’t found a cure
We lure

In the sick to feast
Become the ravaging beast
At least
The are irradiated
Not by us, they were fated
We waited

Their flesh is just as tasty
Some of us were so hasty
Some pasty
But eventually we caved
The sick cannot be saved
We waved

Another course on by
A newbie sets to cry
I lie
“It’s lamb and beef”
No need for grief
Belief

That is how we survive
Eat those no more alive
And thrive
We sip and sup
We raise a cup

As prophets once did too.

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