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Imperial lust
The relics of history pervades
Coiling like python
Swallowing the gazelle
With innocent smile of death
The pain, the pain
With the python even longer
Such a heap and bulging
With grass leveled with weight
Trees cricking with height
The plains that naked
The pythons upon the flocks
The relics of history such a pain
The land feuds of time
If not aggression on high seas
In pursuit of riches
Killing, maiming at will
After centuries of pattern
Holistic attires of purported saints
Sending the word to the pagans
Though demarcating the territories
For empires to reach
The blue ends of the earth
Now grabbing with lunacy
Born of the patterns
Now going astray
Is new order hatching?
Or are the pattern ever the same?
With the brunt to befall them
The poor of the earth |
