REACH

Centre-stage, teleprompters.

A low pitched scream

Infinite assembled

Living deceit

Blood on god’s door

The priest still preached

Money on the holy floor

No prayers reached

Your god’s long dead

Stench-filled narrow streets

Proof of the rotten flesh 

Heaven & well,

No proof of existence

Man created hell

Denounce your belief.

A girl on the road can’t sleep

Dreams? Hunger.

Her wails don’t reach

Books don’t teach

Ink has agenda

5.6 inches 

Loud pretender

Reality beyond screens

Evil smiles with glee

At the masses deceived

For free? Costs mind

Proof of the times.

Pious has bias.

Blinded. Mist.

All guilty.

Crime? Silence.

Un-raised fists.

Photo by MART PRODUCTION on Pexels.com
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