Often confusing

Snake oil.

The peddler paddled down the creek,
Once more he was on the sneak.
To sell for riches to the poor,
A snake oil salesman, door to door.
Only the most venomous he keeps,
Adders, mambas, scaly teeth.
The very same that the shaman feared,
Was now so freely drunk and cheered.
I wish I lived in a world so bright,
Where darkness shone even in night.
To see those salesmen clear as day,
And live among the bright gold fae.
Maybe once it was so.
To point and shout evil at the doors,
Of the unfamiliar, what more to fear.
But what can we fear when all is familiar.
They tell me to hate, but I hesitate,
The good, the bad, oil and water mix again.
As in the potions that were made,
By the salesman, now long dead.
And in the grey that lies below,
I stare and ponder, am I that low.
To see no evil, see no vice,
Only another sacrifice.
I see the family the salesman feeds,
And the families that to him plead.
To save their dead brothers and kin.
Those slain in battle at a whim.
Who's the evil, false hope,
Or the country that's their home.
Or is there no evil, just fools.
All of us in some great machine; tools.