They Will Come For You

 

I was always told

They will come for you

The angry mob wielding

Pitchforks and knives

And swords and torches

Marching with their incoherent chatter

Of a unified belief

Of a unified consciousness and acceptance

That the removal of sin;

And the one the higher educated

Who manipulates lower-intelligence

Must be blamed

And must go.

So they march on

Through angry cries and 

Stomping of feet

With their orange glow

Contrasting with the dead of night

Nowherdays

There are no pitchforks

Or torches, unless

You live in America

Now they come for you

With lawsuits, suing, political agendas

Negative and contrasting beliefs

They hide behind thin pains of glass

And strike from many many miles away

They now can track you

Know who you are and who you see

Because you’re a sin that spreads to others

To sin

With your sin being that

You’re only different than

The mob’s manipulation instigated

By a shadow that wants control

Through chaos, were

In a high tower or a cramped office space

With a little window outside

Can watch the world

Burn