By Hugh Manatee

‘Twas the fright before crisis, and all due to Klaus,
In the future, he inferred, you’ll not own a house!
The shocking words hung, like a knife in the air,
“You Will Have Nothing…and you won’t even care!”

The chill dread did wrestle, with the drugs in our heads,
As vaccines and pseudo-scum, raced us to dead.
The trauma has us frozen; ready just to snap,
WHO did all the damage and filled our veins with crap!

When from Satan’s spawn, they chose just to shatter,
With spikes of protein, and trans-human matter,
DNA into limbo, create a sub-class,
Torn open by CRISPR as Ba’al Gates gets past.

The mark of the beast, will make us all glow,
From Luciferease, and things we don’t know.
Then what of their plundering guise do they fear?
But a permanent stay in a prison, for years!

What shameless connivers; it just makes me sick!
They “woke” up the demons and showed them new tricks!
More rabid than regal, enforcers that maim,
Demented and twisted and riddled with shame:

“Now Flasher! Now, Smasher! Now, Transer and DicksIn,
On, Vomit! On Stupid! On, Stoner and FitsIn!
At the drop of the torch, we start to maul,
Now bash away, gnash away, gash away all!’’

The sly thieves abhor, an impassioned man’s cry,
When hearts beat as One and will not comply.
When truth is not stopped, good forces renew,
‘Tis then we destroy, the venom they spew.

The Dark Ones have an inkling, but still seem quite aloof,
The people are awaking, but still need some more proof.
And as the Holy Bible says, the Truth is so profound,
It will set your spirit free, and release those still spellbound.

Bless-ed by the Word are we—keep evil where it’s put,
And in this final showdown, we fight for each square foot.
With guile deployed by Trojans, they formed a demon’s pact,
It falls unto the fearless to learn and to fight back,

From cries so intermingled, and pain so legendary,
From that which had been imposed upon the weak and wary.
To those few, so uncouth: you reap as you do sew,
Let truth deal unto your sins, Divine’s full and final blow,

To trump over hype; return to the meek,
The earth as designed, and as so was bequeathed.
We are saved in God’s grace; in the call-out to many,
Though fewer are chosen, it’s not wasted by any.

Go within to find solace, put fear on the shelf,
Be fearless in crafting noble roles for yourselves.
To the brink, to defy; with fists made of lead,
We slash at the foe, until all lies are shred.

In the cloak of the herd, in the shadows it lurks,
Red-pilled and now mocking, the deception and quirks.
Slaying malingering spellbinding prose,
Soon to be awed by the things that He shows.

Faith springs, as they say, like a heat-seeking missile,
If today we all die, let it be then on THIS hill.
As we raise the flame high, and shout into the night:
“Happy Crisis to all, and to all a good FIGHT!”