Gods of the Copybook Heading Part II

Then there came the Prince of a New Peace,
The gods they raged through their desire,
They wished to make their Brave New World
And to consume it with unholy fire.

"Men ought to be paid for existing
"Thus we will damage all he has done;
"We will make him a pauper and savior
"Of the world, for we wish only to have fun.

"All deep topics are annoying
"All deep arts are the same;
"Piss and a crucifix in a jar
"Is the only art that isn't lame."

Thus the gods went about their business
Named Athena, Abaddon and Thor,
They grossly laid out their planes
And they scaled a world, no more

Concerned for the worker or his rights
For a writer cannot be paid his dues.
The dog returns to its vomit
Thus they determined Brandon shall lose.

Yet, his work was truly important
And no it was not insane.
It was what would beat the gods
And the world they make, which is lame.

A small income from this art form
A couple hundred a month
Is all he'd need, that
And also a woman to love.

But instead the world went broke
And decided its lusts were grave
They shamed him into deliverance:
For the worlds gods they were made.

The marketplace was demanding
And it wanted no salary earned
Thus Muslim and Chinese terrorists
Flung into a rage, and so spurned.

They hated the truth, they loved a lie
They wanted their squalor back
Thus they took their knives and daggers
And they held it behind Brandon's back.

And at the end, the world was broken
And at the end no one was paid.
At the end they burned the world
And at the end, it was those end days.

All because they wouldn't listen
All because a writer couldn't make a buck
Not even five hundred dollars
A piddling salary earned in a month.