We don’t want your money,
just your soul
on a silver platter
served to order
for our warm feast
while we spit out your raw famine.
We don’t want your respect,
just your energy and time,
just your mind
numbed
to the frequency
of propagandized pestilence.
We don’t want your love,
just your heart
bled dry
as every vein
withers in the Winter wind
while our chalice remains
ever full to the point of overflowing.
We don’t want your vote,
just your faith
that such a course of action
can actually influence
the order in which our puppets
dance to a song of chaos
upon the public stage.
We don’t want your salute,
just your obedience,
just your hands
kept where we can see them
while your feet continue marching
to the drumbeat of our wars.
We don’t want your laws,
just your land,
just your culture,
just your customs,
just your heritage,
just your traditions
snuffed out
beneath the global kingdom
collectivized
at our command.