Behold
Weeds too tall
Flourishing
Blocking the sun
With roots above
Our broken stems
Throttled, scorned
I feel the weight of their polished heel
Affluent predators
Stalking in comfort, silent
Grinding their teeth, golden rot
Affluent predators
They camouflage with tanned flesh
Shearing wool, searing gore
The pasture's rotting
Yet we still graze
As cattle, pining
For a larger cage
With gristle fraying
And shattered joints
As sacrifices
They will exploit
Emaciated pith
The endless hunger
A life devoid
The wage of sorrow
Paid in bone
Their broken dogma
Burned in our skulls
We are the Scythe
They reap what is sown
Unconscious submission
We worship the shrouded crown