The Comedy's End

Lay praises before me, flatter me,
Call me your champion, warrior king.
I am not deceived by your hypocrisy,
I know more than you think I do.

Your tongues protrude out of you,
Revealing double-edged daggers.
The fire in your eyes speak tons
In the tongues of envy and hate.

Though your numbers are small,
You think yourselves mighty and great.
You act deceptively as if autonomous,
But you are owned by the truth you hide.

I lay no blame upon any of the people
Who listened to your lies, your deceit,
For they are innocent of the terror,
The hellish terror that lies in your eyes.

Like a flower, I sprout and grow on,
Rising up to bloom in full, living color,
Opening up my pedals to reveal
The seeds of a revolution of change.

And like the seed, I fall fast and hard.
Like the dead, I am entombed in the dirt.
Buried alive, I face my death and expire;
But the breath of life does not escape me.

The seed must die before life can grow;
My mortal coil shed like the shell of a seed,
Giving birth to the cycle of the seasons
Within the decaying shells of humanity.

Within this darkness shall come a light
Born of the hunger for justice and mercy,
A paradox of needs to lead the way
Into a future of long-lasting hope.

I cannot blame you for your ignorance,
I cannot blame you for your hate.
Though you are deceivers and haters
You believe your own lies to be true.

In this season of death and despair
In this moment of deadly confusion,
I move forward to embrace the fates,
To be splayed by your vicious tongues.

To be pierced by the fangs of serpents,
And to be poisoned by the venomous
Horns of the aquatic beast, the hydra,
The sevenfold mockery of true decorum.

Let the ones who are false be false,
Let the ones who hate continue to hate,
For the time is near, it has already come,
For this comedy to meet its burlesque end.