Litkicks Message Board Archive

Madness of An Anarchist In 50 Lines

Posted to Poetry




In dreary dark night we awake.. silent animals of bleeding hunger..
We release fear upon the people and scream death into your children's heads...
Run from us... you poor bastard
For we devour broken souls.
It is not so merely a pain... it is an agonizing malady.
We come together in peaceful greeting at sides of the world.
Alone in masks of faint blue tint... with pale green eyes...
We can make you see.
Travel the world and block out sweet songs of lost beauty and we will run to you...
Heaving with blooded sickness as we come.
We are healers.. and destoyers...
Guns and roses... sometimes they called us.
But we were no hit song nor chart-topper melody...
No we...
We were just...
MURDERERS.
And so the fear drove us mad for long hours of short days...
And hot nights of sweaty exasperation.
I was excommunicated at 19 years old... when the people thought me blind and wicked.
I had boiled a rabbit and let the smell fill the noises of the wanton princes of mayhem.
They all lusted after me.
What a tall drink to take down.. they said...
What madness... What Sheer Madness...
Holy fuck... my God!
They all ran amuck... crying in the flowers...
Heads plunged deep into the darkening abyss of hopeless despair...
And you my friend were there to save them....
But in the end you set fire to their eyes.
Pilgrim, pilgrim... what are you here for?
I'm here for restitution.
Pilgrim, pilgrim what are you here for?
Evolutionary revolution.
Pilgrim pilgrim, what did you die for?
Gold, riches money and lust.
Pilgrim pilgrim... who do you love?
Not you, wretch, you're not one of us.
So are you alone...
No, I've got god.
I said are you alone?
Yes... I've got guns.
HAHAHA!
Then you wil die with your smug smile.. your lies and your looks...
And we'll talk to you again in the history books.