I wonder at the world
and am truly awed
at the depth of dissimulation and tyranny
where each Inviolate Decrepit
is a frozen Superman supporting
lies, deviltry and a mercenary god.

There is that ruse that meets the sense
with innocent expressions of incense
fuming through the tunnels of darkness
to a leaf-flecked garden
Hush.

I wonder when it will end

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Page 30 (Black Book: Light Heart)