by Nick Gisburne
We let them live. Come, take your martyrs back,
Without the prize, the infamy they seek.
The wisdom they, and those who laud them, lack
Is laughable. Deceivers, they are weak.
Demanding to be broken by the state,
They pledge their pity to a higher cause,
But governments for which they harbour hate
Are mirrors, built to magnify their flaws.
They cannot pull the walls of power down
When they themselves are part of what they fear.
Without its faulty freedoms they would drown,
Yet volunteers for murder, these, you cheer.
The hypocrites, your martyrs, let them preach.
Whatever world they want is out of reach.
