Nothing that you try is sacred.
Thine image is of but that a curse.
Not upon my life and those around
But of yours.
Your head and vein are filled with worms.
Of which thy birded companions feast upon.
They feed upon the lies.
They Feed within your manipulation.
The game, of which I am not fooled.
The World is open eyed to you.
But thy dull minded birds
Are always but forever fooled.