The Golden Age of Ironclad Stupid

In Godless trust
for when the scarlet
atheist “A” is strung-out
dangling free
there’s naught left to hide
all the piñata pariah
you could hope to beat with a stick is there
whack it one
truth wills out
burn it down
non-toxic smoke blooms
when you hang it
deified martyrs
dribble treats upon your upturned heads
fall to your knees
scramble for the golden meats
of your lords and masters
whom you have served
as their enemies served them…
…ya feckin’ iron-age cunts

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