Poet of the System

When?

The system is corrupt.

When?

More than recently,

Than a few years ago.

Not that hard to notice

Or show.

Like a bloodstain on

The back of Society.

Dark thoughts sweeping its mind,

Betrayed from the lie

Shoved down its throat.

It tries to croak

Out warnings,

But those in charge don't listen.

And the blood still glistens.

It shines gently

On the tip of a knife

Or the point of a gun,

Held by Corruption

And Destruction.

And lately, they've become restless,

Lacking sense

And reason,

Completely ready

To commit treason

Of the worst

And murder of the best.

Each year, the duo get stronger,

Tireless.