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Ink Flow

Ignoble foxes roam the earthly media planes,

Bound by hate of fate, where in vain fair play wanes.

The miserable authoritarians trivialize life's decrees,

To irony's demise, a slumber of somber varying degrees.


But curious minds see the flaws in their faces,

Hidden within history's soiled embarrassing embraces,

Their tales transcribed in bloodied ink forever spilled,

Echoing through the rest of time, their lies were fulfilled.


Their actions consigned to the force of prate,

Compelled by demons, dangers they procreate

Soon a spark of insight will ignite the flame,

To birth Truth reveals the deceivers' shame.


Like wandering children with naught to heed,

Each wriggling soul is uncertain of their creed.

Their existence measured by rotten trophies won,

Their motives veer from fraud to those undone.


In an impotent rage, they dwell in the gloom,

Yet, the long arms of justice in the same room

Dispensing from the face of the blue noon

Where mastermind idiots meet their doom


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