What do we call these soldiers,
That whip and leave question marks on our bodies?
How do we remotely pause this display
Or chance this chosen cheerful chairlady?
At the mention of the name of “Power”,
Every desperate heart must bow —
To the attachment of rituals and sacrifices;
To the yeggman and burglar of our true selves.
In the name of power, the week loses strength
And all days are numbered.
In the name of power, godliness has rivals,
Territories lost their “auda-cities”.
This main mental malady has made men mad:
It is a bloody campaign, a breath for heights and wits!
A custody for custodians of costly customs,
A powerful snapshot with the rule of thirds.
This is a theorematical powerful pythagoras,
A mythology of fake realities—
This excessive pursuit for power to suit our souls is a beautiful “venom”.
This excessive love for power is the root of all evil!
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