!flux11 Servatis a periculum, Servatis a maleficum

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!flux11 make image gloomier

!flux11 Servatis a maleficum

!flux11
They sell us fire while drowning in the flood,
With tongues of silk and breath like molten lead.
The poor stack ash in straw and call it blood.

Their suits are sewn from flags once raised in bud,
Now soaked in bribes and stained from white to red.
They sell us fire while drowning in the flood.

They toast collapse from towers built on mud,
Then break the backs that raise the people’s bread.
The poor stack ash in straw and call it blood.

They preach through masks still dripping oil and mud,
Their gospel sold on looms of tangled thread.
They sell us fire while drowning in the flood.

They script our chains in law and name it good,
Then laugh in courts where truth lies walking dead.
The poor stack ash in straw and call it blood.

They bait the mob, then crush it into mud,
While wolves in wool devour the words we’ve said.
They sell us fire while drowning in the flood.
The poor stack ash in straw and call it blood.

!flux11 If you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.

!flux11 Sometimes people don’t want to hear the truth because they don’t want their illusions destroyed

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