Masquerading as the universal messiah
with your ostentatious devotions.
Playing both ends against the middle
you run with the hair & hunt with the hounds.
Assuming the guise of virtuousness
yet perfidious, all the while.
Goin thru the motions of innocence
yet parading your Janus-faced soul.
The simulacrum of your empty gestures
lie before your brotherhood of falseness.
Your whited sepulcher sits in ruin
among your holier-than-thou artifice.
Sentenced to your self-made Procrustian bed
denying your deeds with no name.
You must now sow the wind and reap the whirlwind
for denying your flesh of nothing.
© March 23, 1992 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic