The Class Machine

No cleric can surpass the king
No, not even in democracy.
The fiefdom is set, as the cook
Makes Metalcore, and lives 
His worst life now.

Was not DaVinci a clerk?
Say we had more freedom then
Than we do now?

The modern Feudalism is set,
As the Wokies march in order,
Ushering in Communism.
The new generation rises,
One with the royal cavalcades
And the flying chariots...
The peoples worship them as gods.

Science is magic
And no man,
Whose own grandfather
Used to dig a hole in the ground
Can rise to the ranks of Poet Laureate;
No not in this day.

The Laurel sings her rage,
That Boomerang can kill her
The minute she fires her Pineapple;
Though she wants to fight for her freedom,
Yet the mass graves shall be the cost.
Republicans in their rows,
Mowed down by machines and not men;
Waging their wars with Bow and Knife.

Yes, you crowned emporer,
This is a new generation...
One where you rise above all
In glutted fest, and say "I AM".
Crown the Empire,
The ashes of all I love are destroyed,
For to fight is futile.

So, let me die if I must.
And my Blood shall kindle the flame
Like Polycarp, and in Peace
Freedom shall persuade and win.