Angelic Scorn

articfalcon: living and letting try
Articfalcon: oh what do i wait for?
Articfalcon: patience upon these golden winds
Articfalcon: as mockeries do fly
Articfalcon: I stand in my abyss
Articfalcon: awaiting for the alarm to sound my wings to fly
Articfalcon: for treachery no more to commit

What masquerades do we dance in
And what folly do we excuse?
Where do we place our socks
While our foes removes our shoes?
What smiles will we grant
To our servants we once
Took for granted?
What feeling of ingratitude and unworthiness
Will we endure
Until we feel redeemed?
How much of our souls will we sell?
And how much will we buy forgiveness for?
What solace and peace will we be granted
From the dog we used to beat?

Where is this Phoenix of fire
That we say will commence
To rise up in judgment
In the End?

Folly sings the fool
Awaiting the king to return
From his drunken path
Of remorse and repentance

What will humanity have
If their leaders are drunk with
The foolish notions
Of reconciliation, redemption
And probable devotion
From those they exploited and used?
What can humanity have achieved
Without the need to abuse and devour?

What needs would humanity have to evolve
To the expectation of civility
Without committing to foul recompenses toward
Human dignity and its foul stench
That commands armies to slay
Populations and deeds?

What mechanism or machine
Will we all serve in the end
Whether it is man or beads?
Foul dust from the dirt
Flirts with the air and skies above
Even rats and flies avoid
Such a hollow and empty barren
As such is called humanity
And its demands to be exonerated and reproved
As a scarlet or strumpet does
Demand from there aimless indignant men
Who hold neither valor nor honor?
Toward mothers or women

Heed what ears to these words of scorn?
For these ears have in time bled with forsaken mourns
Caldron ashes from the breath
Of gypsophalia
Have been used in evidence
Against youth, innocense and the born
Babies breath have spoken in courage
What doth a thing mean for fools in courts
Of power and foliage?

Sing thee a song
For what need?
Bake thee a word in the oven for whom to feed?
Sip we of words to bring comfort adorn.
Weigh we vanity a reason to scorn?
Laugh we to free our souls?
Say we things to share to make
Vows to neighbors a promise to be broken torn
Say we share our interests
In cares, worries and frets?
Say we care for the things that mean to us the less?
What wields us forward into the morrow?
Who are our children fawns?
What falcon brings message more
Than that of owls, eagles or children born?

Hearken these maiden in deeds
As they weigh their master’s demands and needs
But what of the soul
Of human commands?
What shall a servant give to a mighty word
More than humanity gives to a weak bird?
Foul in the air!
Cowards in despair!
Who shall be the savior
Of mighty leaders in power?
Who is to dare?

Maestros make music masterfully displayed
Ears dispense awe and appreciation
For what the soul may.
But what milk does the babe drink when
Mothers astray?
What does poverty promise
In its songs dismayed?
Taxes for the youth!
And taxes for the brave!
Taxes for the weak!
And taxes for the maim!
Leave the strong to judge and make a place
For the dumb and the blind
For the poor and the kind!
Beware! Oh! Humanity of the devoted Wolf!
Beware! Oh! Folly! Of the Arctic Falcon in the air!