Light falls on a nation of apathetic usurpers.
They wait, impatient at progress
and violent in their speech.
Tailored with despair at the way
things have gone for them.
Virulent the destruction laden in
their tongues of hatred.
They wait and talk of the means
to destroy those unlike them.
Seething in dark shadows
swept with maim and terror
their common mind’s only intent
the death that awaits others.
They wait, alone in the dark.
Without the courage to act.
They wait, only able to rise
to feeble cowardice.
The greased spoon of entitlement
draws them near new prey.
One talks to another then another to another
until an army of flaccid hate seethes
at the chance to injure and destroy.
Fat old men sit on the new throne
to spew fifth all around.
No target is spared as tiny minds in dirty missives
cry darkness at the perceived.
They wait, listless.
With no faith, no love, no destinies,
they exist only to spread ambitionless horror
without end.
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Copyright 2025 Russell Dickerson. All rights reserved.