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And the gargoyles in the parapets had their hands over their eyes
They failed to see the significant signs in the skies
And the two large pillars were hit by hate, exploded and the people did fry
The representation of democracy and the power within that did lie
Retribution was swift and retribution was fast
Consolidating the hatred that Uncle Sam always says the last
The desert storm resulting was never surpassed
Forgetting the Passovers of the Past
And to turn the cheek whilst the whip did still lash
And while Crowley did dance naked on the isle of Thrace
the fairies were petrified and covered their face
and realised that hatred fed more into hate
and effective in sealing the kharma of the whole human race
exposing the pryamid's secret of the white gold dust
greed has got hungry and the ultimate passion of lust
will eventually encapulate us in our own stone bust
of granite heart hardened, features and eyes covered and never will be just
Georges

I agree with the message of your poem, Georges.

Thanks for the reply, Liz
Georges

George, the gargoyles of old, frightened the illiterate masses on their way to their masses. I believe that we think along the same lines about our modern media hungry, political gargoyles, who certainly frighten the life out of me. You are correct about their new religion being the pursuit of greed and their feeding frenzy over the conquered and occupied meak of this world.

Byron, in the old days it was the stone that frightned and the power of suggestion. Today we will be more inclined to be turned to stone or pillars of salt by the weapons of mass seduction.
WE FEAR NOTHING now and this is very dangerous. Put a madman at the helm and we will all be on the rocks and it won't be women and children first. It will be every greedy B for himself..........
Georges