When Our Gods Hit the Ground

blow-up-Stalin-monument-prague

When our gods hit the ground

How hollow we will be

Knowing

Feeling

That we were always going to be

Let down

Pushed around

Cast aside so casually

We lifted them up

On altars neatly buffed

Came to rely

To be denied

Result of supplication

Rendered automation

Fury grows

Delivered blows

Against the font

Under the feet of icons

Marble bursts apart

Slides away

Down in a cascade

And our lords meet the floor

Stomped to smithereens

Whether we erect another totem

Remains to be seen

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Comment and Question Often. -Mgmt.

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