Tuesday, March 1, 2011

History Best Known

In all the worlds, there is no truer sense
The devils preferred better, the ones acquiescent
Rationality subdued, we’re led to reprehense
The alter to slaughter, our common sense

Misfortunes smiling, at our blind pursuits
Doth lead us the errand, of blind roots
Settling on the task, of folly presumed
Those like natured souls, likewise subdued

In there submission, blood contract is signed
That our children shall thus, also be confined
And so to there fathers’, errors are sown
The folly of honor, written in stone

Thus presumes histories, repetition of way
That are children shall make slaughter, of old, the new way
The babes from the breast, thus snatched from the vine
In order to make of children, slaughter of wine

Offered to Satan, in the most irrational of way
We proclaim truth, upon the naked, the dead and dismay
And so continue, your preposterous way
Until the living are no more and nothing to say

The Awful Truth
Philo Lapis

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