WE ARE ALL CULPABLE

Before the arrival of
The Cross and Crescent,
Bards want to ram down
My throat, we all were saints.
But I'm seeing something
Across my hedge:
The lizards and chickens
Who haven't read a letter
In any of the tomes,
Filled with incredible rage
Jumping around to scratch
Their eyes out; bitter
And whipping to skin
One another.
Honestly, bards,
I'm lost in ponder.
Did the strangers
Brainwashed them too?
Would we for once learn
To grapple with what's true?

Just like the cock hungry
For a harem, our greed
Is what is killing us;
The rotten and bitter seed
Long ago sowed to grab
The spoils of power
Has fructified and hence
This brutal hours;
Those we armed with
All the tribal lies
Having tasted the lusciousness
Of stolen goods now disguise
As feudal zealots
To elevate their tribe
And we come here and recite
A face-saving hype?
Chickens chase lizards,
Lizards chase insects -
Even the insects have their crooks.
Long before the arrival
Of the strangers and their books
Warriors and slaves were owned
By every tribal king.
Your vilifying hype
Is utterly self-deluding.

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