Preachers of Happenstance

pretenders to our fates

Are we just a stipend
To these pretenders of new Rome
Preachers of happenstance
Muckrakers to our home
Slayers of our monuments
Hopers of our doom
Is their mandate our demise
Precise or compromised
Will our children run safely free
Or savored on the ways
Enslaved by new ordeals
How many times can they be saved
Childish fools of fallacy
Purveyors of conspiracy
Naïve to history’s fates
Do you dare tear Rome asunder
Dream that it’s demeaned
Vandalized — put in parts
For, the Barbarians are at the gate
The imitators to that holy shrine
The pretenders to our fates
Is the image of the two-pronged goat
But separate like the snake
Does man not build with love or care
In the spirit of all beauty
Designate resourcefulness
So why Barbarians at his gate
Perhaps it’s hate that sets them free
Imitators falsely emboldened
Embittered by lost kingdoms
Forsaken by good grace
Dignity has been perverted
False beauty it’s just reward
So, why does a monument fall
Because truth must always take its toll
For lies can’t last forever
And history catches up to all
Come a black September