A blood filled glass tipped in toast to love

A shallow little jackal of a man posing as a hawk,
Conniving opportunist.
Lease the blade the gun the bomb,
In the name of Justice.
A violent panacea for what ails the heart.
In advancement for the pig.
Wrest is the truth from your hands.
Propelled by aggression...

My eyes,
Never closed clarity,
Clamped down in a grit so ordinary on life.
Peering through a curtain of blood.
Retribution or vengeance it matters not which.
My sweet demoness,
Eyes clouded from the truth,
Mind spiced with ambivalence.
With weakened neck in the noose,
You swallow it all.

Commerce brings war.
Jihad has come to both sides.
Eye for an eye fire for fire.
Gaining revenge as things escalate.
Riches bring nothing but loneliness,
But the poor strive to achieve.
Left bankrupt we all die inside.
This will never end,
Without much choice,
By the fiscal elite.
War is set in motion by higher powers,
A pissing contest for the unknown.

As a couple jumps hand in hand to their deaths,
Wrapped in swaddling lies and laid in dumpster.
Played by a higher power.
It is but a game.
Someone needs to tip the nest,
To bring salvation to the confused and doubtful.
Faith in yourself,
Faith in the old gods,
Faith in fate,
Faith in retribution.
It is a lie you have to believe in if you want it to come true.
Fear of the unknown,
Fear of loneliness,
Fear of death.
If you are filled with faith there is no space for fear.
For I am faithful.
Faithful in my own strength.
Faithful in my ability to play with the strings of fate.

The pig ascends,
As I sink deeper.
A loathing sight.
Unable to take misconceptions,
The ruling force of this world.
A misanthropic man seeks.
Waiting for death.

Sin†ner™
Do not wonder,
for I am but a shadow.