Middle Hand Man

 





I give them all, my
Middle of the hand

Those weaving together
The fringes of our morality
Scrawling down in stone
Our words before they sway
Those entrappers, tricksters
I do despise

Beware, you self-indulgent somber prisoners of exile
Beware, hunters of plastic thrills that patchwork their voids
Ministers pit you both in opposition, erasing grey areas
May they have spiritual immolation and be charred to ash

Watch out for the menaces
Militancy behind those smiles
Operators closely standing by
In clandestine for-profit mission
They only rise above, amidst
The fallings of their surroundings

Middle of the hand,
As I bid them adieu