Late Warning on Zuma

Driven by doggerel’s primitive lies
Rage unaffected by darkening skies
Propel yourselves, bass line and all
To unholy conference, demon’s call.

Grip thyselves well, men of the mirror
Disrespectful cult whose lost all glimmer
Reverse thy course before it’s too late
Yours awaits you at Heaven’s Gate.

You see, Freedom is a tragic well-eaten myth
Hell’s express’ become a cultural megalith
Banking on the controlling interest of souls
Materialistic armor with irreparable holes.

So how do you escape from the Behemoth’s crush?
A tidal steamroller, unrighteous nonesuch
What move will you make declares you a winner
Are you willing today to declare “I’m a sinner?”

Human wisdom is limited minute, the best of us know
And following Caesar’s dangerous, the rest of us know
Yet you crawl at unbridled breakneck speed
To a destruction seven times seven your original deed.

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