Camelot

They build a wall of skull and bones,
These masters of deception,
Then at themselves throw sticks and stones,
To garner our affection.

They out themselves with shock and awe,
Suspending our belief,
They kindle us with hay and straw.
To cry for some relief.

They season us, they stir the pot.
They beat the drums of trance.
Darkness is their Camelot,
Twilight’s where they dance.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s