Democracy RIP

 

"A nation can survive its fools,

and even the ambitious.

But it cannot survive treason

from within." - Cicero 

It has always been, that the enemy's within

It's blairingly obvious, it's democracys' sin

They planted quislings, we didn't empower

Wanting to oppress us, wanting us to cower

They want us subjugated, a tyrannized flock

Step out of line and they will brutally mock

For we are the foe, they reluctantly require 

The fuel for the flame for democracys' pyre

"Dictatorship naturally arises out

of democracy, and the most aggravated 

form of tyranny and slavery out of the

most extreme liberty."

- Friedrich von Hayek

Now we know who they are, the metrostasi

The vile oppressors, Davosian, commikaze

Who sold their souls, to the globalist whore

Betraying us all, to fight an unwinnable war

With traitors and colluders of various degrees

There'll be riots and ruin and alternative sees

Ideologies are treachery, but traitors don't care

As we enter a dark age, on a wing and a prayer 

"I have learned to hate all traitors, 

and there is no disease I spit on more

than treachery. " - Aeschylus

Democracy RIP

 

Elites & Chattel

There's a memory, in a dreamcatcher caught 

Of a battle lost, that was never fought

There was no victory, there was no defeat

Just a realignment, of enlightenment, said the elite 

But all is well now, for they told us so

Theirs is the narrative, that we need to know 

It's so wonderful, we don't even have to think

For they process everything, every thought and blink

There's no I in team, there's no you, them, or me

For we're as one together, with our own ID

Long gone are the dark days, of a time before 

Once cursed by cash, now we're a credit score 

There's no unrest, no alternative course to tout

As the world's configured, to when the lights go out

And they calmed us, after they erased our borders

Prescribing remedies, to help us follow orders 

Thankfully, unlike us, they're not tagged like sheep 

As they erase our nightmares, in our allotted sleep 

And who needs dreams, if free thought's a shackle

For we're as one, them and us, elites and chattel

Them and us? But I thought they righted wrongs?

But there's no I in team, this is old world tongues 

So let sleep prevail, let them cleanse that thought

Until it's a faded memory, in a dreamcatcher caught 

Quislings

U are the white noise, of an incoherent hum

An idealogical noodledom, of the vile, dumb

Relentlessly oppressive, your rhetoric's dirty

Everyone must know, your goal's, agenda '30

Some see sheep, but it's a pack, Canis Lupus

Clandestine Fabians, led by a comrade Judas

U are the disloyal quislings, of a paper crown

Mixing, red and green, creating faeces brown

One, Nine, Eight, Four

 

There're numbers there, on an internal door

The familiar, one and nine and eight and four

They're black on grey, they're a yester-date

On the one way entrance, to the Stasi State

Authorities watch from there, they don't deny it

Although they will interfere, to keep you quiet 

And so for collective cohesion; and your health 

They will want your opinions, kept to yourself

What you need to know, they'll show, on MSM

Sanitised half truths, too unworthy to condemn

And without just cause, from then, forthwith 

Your freedom, of thought, evanesces to a myth 

They know you better, than you know, you

Knowing every old post and every new view

For you're their problem, you and your kind

By refusing to assimilate, to their hive mind

It's their cause and effect, it's you in the frame

Actions have a reaction, the victim's to blame

It's a cynical lure, when they weaponise speech

Don't do as they do, you've to do as they preach

You're a minute away, from a knock at the door 

It'll be a PC Droid, model: one, nine, eight, four 

It's duty will be unwavering, but as fickle as fate

When it's following the orders, of the Stasi State

 

Empires Fall

 

There's a moat, that's dry, but full and deep 

Beneath crumbling ramparts, of a castles keep

A standard was raised, twas a white flag flying 

To mark the place, that wasn't death defying

Did a swarm, of flies, over corpses, crawl?

For they'll always feed, when empires fall

And this empire fell, when it failed the test

Yielding meekly, they inevitably lost the West

Some invited those, who were god's marauders

'Come to us' they said 'across our open borders'

And on their knees, hailed 'Our King is yours'

But were brutally mocked, like virgin whores

It was a natural re-ordering, to cede, or kill

In the invisible presence, of some higher will

And the domino's fell, long before the liars

As did cities and states and country shires

They purged the leaders, the pathetic weak

But it was, too little, too late, to avoid defeat

For empires fall, when the virtuous pander

To the ludicrous elite and their propaganda

Now, the winter's here, of the forever night

A moat's covered in snow, rot stained, white

A standard's raised, but it's a new flag flying 

To mark the place, where the old guard's lying

Our Flat Earth

 

Old gods of yore, a sky wizard, and the serfs of flerf

Unicorns, dragons, and the centaurs of our flat Earth 

Reside as one, but not united, as the doubters probe

Fabricating, their absurd reality, based upon a globe

Let them not fool us all, with ancient pseudoscience 

As they lead us, like sheep, let us show our defiance 

They'll drip feed, the insanity, of an alternative home

Even though, that the truth is, we exist under a dome

Albeit, we're as sane as Dionysus and talking snakes

Remember there're malicious agents, if god forsakes

They're fake, but of their doctrines, there is no dearth

Heretical globists, are forever coveting, our flat Earth 

Flesh Hovel Lane

 

They once rode out, for the fox hunting, Quorn

Over the hedges and fields, with passengers borne

But the old, the unfit, the weary and the lame

They'd all be butchered, down Flesh Hovel Lane 

Spent, they were knackered and given no quarter 

Led down the lane and sent to their slaughter 

It's a gruesome story and it's a terrible tale to tell 

For the hounds of the hunt, were always fed well

The butchery's long lost in the macabreness of yore

And the abattoir's gone, by Pillings Lock on the Soar

But it's still a dead end, still narrow, once rutted

It's Flesh Hovel Lane, where horses, were gutted