162 B.E.    

>CREATIVITY>A Forlorn Inquiry
A FORLORN INQUIRY

Foolish minions
See pigs with wings
Flocking in the acid skies

Swarming locusts
Buzz about
Flapping and aimlessly devouring

Fixated Eyes
Are asphyxiated
By visual display units
And the neo-zombie is born
No longer the fiction of a horror movie

Soulful voices
Have been buried
Beneath the desert storm

Scientific prostitutes
In black tinted spectacles
Create prize-winning art with spray cans
Upon the walls of liberty

Incestuous politics
Is the new epidemic
That afflicts the able-bodied
Dissolving every grey matter

Delicate, precious, feather-light ones
Are viciously sucked
Into the moral vacuum
Where the foul voyeurs reside
Cackling and cracking their fingers
Their red-eyes filled with sickening delight

The torchbearer's flames
Are fuelled by presidential portraits
Burning in mockery of fallen patriots
Whose bloodshed is consigned to history

Blood should boil
At the thought of the descending justice
Hearts should melt
With the sadness of a deaf earth
That should surely be cloaked in darkness
Under the great shadow cast by the "Hand of Power"
And gradually crushed and ground between the "Fingers of Strength"

Instead blessings rain down
And the All-Merciful One forlornly inquires
"I created the rich…..why dost thy bring thyself down to poverty?
Noble I made thee…..wherefore do thou abase thyself?"

Written by Vincent Afnán-Murray