Civil War

Nothing can penetrate the failed mind,

The failed state shattered and battered,

With regions free to conduct their own business,

And wreak havoc with the status quo.

Now events are altered, with daydream images,

Ousting the truth with fire and violence,

Delivering lies by murder and crime,

In this post-apocalyptic, lawless realm.

The owner becomes the famous hero,

Of every memory, reborn and recreated.

Braving fires and simple holocausts,

The hero swings in to save the world,

And reduce evil to the barren wastelands.

People are obscured in the memory banks,

Villified as the spawn of Satan,

Or anointed as the Second Coming.

Those who were victims now become thieves,

Kindred spirits become mortal enemies.

It's a volatile medley of confused pictures,

Confused motion pictures without beginning or end,

Turned into pulp fiction by rogues and rebels,

Who spurn reality to usurp sanity.

Nothing can halt the growing rebellion,

That desires reformation, and blood on the tracks,

Replacing stability with an altered Bible,

A collusion of gods to take what they want,

And leave the mind penniless and devolved.

Now master of nothing except the unconscious,

Using dreams to launch the fightback,

And return reality as the rightful monarch.

© menshallknownothingofthis.co.uk 28.12.09