Twisting and turning, the garden path swirls about.
Lost within the leafy maze
unsure whether those statues are moving
or if it is shadows playing tricks?
I can hear the baying of the hounds
and wonder, can they be for me?
I escaped from the prison of my mind
fighting my way back
from the depths of the madness
only to discover that there is no way out.
I whirl around, fear tangent in the air
my breath comes in brisk gasps
fear reaching out with blackened limbs
ready to encircle,
to capture me and pull me back.
Twisting and turning, the garden path swirls
and the Jester roars.
His laughter savage
as I am pinned,
beneath his silvered gaze.
There will be no freedom,
only a soul mired in anguish
the Jester’s bride,
captured and maddened,
Seated upon a throne of lies
brought to be
through the desperate desires of others
seeking a righteous change.
Voices raised in violent rape
shattering the illusions
of choice and freedom
turning back the hands of time.
Stand beneath the booming clock
unsure of which way to turn;
hesitant to accept the whispered promises
of the heaven to come…
if only you repent.
Repent of free thought
repent of opinions shared
repent of confidence
repent of all that is human.
See him as he is:
Seated upon a decaying throne,
shredding silken dreams
silencing the screams of the devout.
The truth has been shown to the faithful
to those who demanded his ways.
Now they see that they are still what they always were,
food for the rich to prey.
Hell’s fires burn victorious and bright
tinting the world in a crimson red
and he shall bring about
the end of times,
so the prophecy has foretold.