Archive | November, 2017

The Hollowood

7 Nov

Beyond the mount of nameless pride,
Aloof to lands they stand astride,
And blind to prayers that they deride,
The Hollowood in strength reside,

The Hollowood embrace the shore
With rainbow fruit devoid of core;
With cotton lies and Weinstein lore;
And snowflake spawn of countless score.

The Hollowood observe the sea.
They mock the heart while taking knee.
They honor root, but not the tree,
They share the door, but not the key.

The Hollowood surround the bay
They scorn the poor and house the stray.
They call the child from far away,
Inviting him to dread-filled play.

The Hollowood remake the rules
Without the aid of common tools
Their craft is what they make for fools;
Bereft of life, but filled with ghouls.

The Hollowood are hard to find.
They hide in front, and speak behind.
They shine the light upon the blind,
And take the light from those they bind.

The Hollowood embrace the See,
But less with love than entropy;
And scorn the best, as they decree
The fruit upon their evil tree.

The Hollowood will pass away,
And where the palm of death did sway,
No scratch, no mark, no glint will stay
No remnant of their stolen day.