She awaits purity of thought
but encounters licentious festering
selfish diatribes of pseudo-intellectual
rationaliza tions constructed to confound
and mollify, probe and parry, sterilize
marginalize and hypnotize.
She awaits purity of intent
but meets avarice disguised as caring
loathing sneers turned up to smiley faces
slavery posing as charity and behind the masks
another mask in readiness.
She awaits purity of heart
but finds entrophy of soul.
Sadly, the War Angel unfolds her great wings
and flies high above the brightly lit city
until it is small as a Christmas bulb. She is
not aware of time. She is aware of futility.
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