Bastards of Old

Bitter sweet, and nice to meet

Sink low to your filthy mind, stick out your hand and offer a treat

Sickly bastards, lean back with bulging bellies and rotting feet

Taste the apple, the peach, the pear, but don’t get up

They’re watching you now, ready to still your seat

Without thought, without remorse, and least of all without care

They are the secret workers of fallen destinies, the crushers of all that is fair

Jagged teeth for your maggot ridden corpse white rotten meat

Bastards in disguise, wolves in the pale moon light, but by day, sheeps

Listen closely and hear their plots, these weavers of knots, sick with fever heat

They’ll come on with a snake charm grin, and leave you bleeding without a peep

Move your ass, lose your seat, reach up high for destinies dream, but prepare

A fall is soon to come after pride, first you live, then you die

It’s the way of their secret plans, smashing you out, clapping their hands

Evil in plain clothes, destruction in epic throes, blood thirsty

Be warned, listen closely, hear their laughter?

They taste not, dream not, understand not, nor care any for your woe

They are the shade of shadows, and shadow of shades, penmen of dark demises

They come upon you in a million billion crafty disguises

The hidden dream stealers, the plotters of chaos, demons and devils, preachers and cons, wolves and sheep, snakes and pawns

The bastards of old


Copyright (c) 2009 by Gregory D. Welch


~ by shadesoftruth on February 26, 2009.

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