Eye Of The Storm

The clouds part and yet the storm rages on within,

the shadow of a man stands at its centre,

his pity holds no bounds,

for the victims of his unintelligent design,

because the real storm is ravaging his world,

his subjects eating away at the earth like locusts,

but with a friendlier face,

for they fool each other into believing that they are righteous,

but they are there to feed,

they are the locusts,

a swarm of smug pestilence

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