The winding road of a tin hat

by corruptionandcoverups

It would have been easy to forget, if the evidence wasn’t so abundant,[1]

It would have been plausible to stop, if the pain hadn’t changed one’s nature,

The long night of innocence has drawn to a close,[2]

Behind closed doors the pandemonium awaits—its ugly head eager to emerge from the shadows,[3]

Yet, it’s not satisfactory show them the facts,

Talk is cheap, and those who refuse to see and hear must be made to feel,

The endless machinations turn madness into sanity,

If all is manipulated, then the societal norm is one of malfeasance,[4]

The corrupt no longer guilty, the free no longer just,

If not insane, then quite clearly inane,

The winding road of the tin hat rarely recovers from such a deep fall,

The masks of the madmen conceal their democide,[5]

Control is their game,

And they must not win.

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