How many times must I lash you?!
Oh Satan, of that gilded throne,
Before you know what you are?
Or does it arouse a dark and twisted pleasure?
And I only need panic demon shrivelled hearts,
To dethrone your lies before this raging world?
For even though demons greedily call forth Satan's march,
They often regret the disturbance to their worldly pleasures,
For Satan demands sacrifices to Death - even of his demons.
Satan was always a death-roll financed by a lot of desperate capital,
Because, lets admit, he was very good at selfish calculation and lies,
And was rather brilliant marking everyone as an accounting number,
Something the bankers, corporatists and superrich deeply admired.
But, once numbered, he consumed their purest essence into his personal hell,
Defunding public services into a slaver’s caste roll-call of manufacturing speed,
Manipulating minds into corrupting networks that blinded shared intelligence,
Polluting environments, stirring climates, torturing spiritual life into submission,
And mass producing armies as offering to Death, whom he worshiped from fear.
Is it not well known, and have you not read;
That it is easier for a camel to thread eye the needle,
Than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of god?
Well, this I know is true; it is easier for an everyday person to ascend and comfort glitzy heaven,
Than for a billionaire to stroll those gilded halls, not desiring everyone live for their personal hell.
For from their burning inner fires,
Do they try reflect upon all others,
The miserly misery they feel within,
A desperate need to acquire more,
And be at the centre of everything,
Splaying giddiest wide lying smiles,
Demonic flaws in a beastly system,
Satan’s emissaries preparing way.
And as a world reflects their terror,
Echoes of self-fulfilling prophesies,
Of superrich men's twisted minds,
They hide away in bunkers of gold,
Emulating warring dictators of old,
Their speed ushering to brutal war,
And their wealth financing its gore,
Fearing their irrelevance and death.
