Spoken Word Poetry

Web of Lies

We need it, he said
To his right hand man.
A way to seize power,
Control of the land.
War will not work,
We will have to be subtle
Get into their hearts,
No chance for rebuttal
How do we do that?
How do we win?
Make a plan, we begin,
Form a man, outside in.
Our hero will rise
Revered in their eyes
We spin the web of lies
To put us in good light
We pretend we're on their side
And maybe, we will be.
But control, if we have it,
We have everything
Power over people,
Joy we will bring

If we start low
And begin to grow
Their faith will dwindle
Starting to slow.
We have to be crazy
Then simmer down
We will positively,
Surely take the crown.
If they see us now
We have no chance,
They do not see how,
Don't give a second glance to us.
But if we make it worth
Their while, their denial
Will file out the door.

Destruction
Desperation
Revolution
Creation
Transformation
We make the mess,
Without letting them know,
And so, their desperation grows.

But we wait.
Ready with our plan for
Transformation when we can
We'll have a man.
A man we will give power
Abilities to heal
And to walk on water
They will revere him
Until his final breath,
Where his gruesome death,
Is our focus.

This is what we feed on,
His sacrifice
We use our hero,
The crowd he will entice,
Because his death
Will be their saviour,
Their release to being free,
Their destiny,
They will see.
And we?
We have the power
To harness this feeling.
We give them something.
Something to believe in.
We'll be deceiving.

But they do not
Have to know,
And the web of lies,
It grows.

But we keep them in our grip
For fear they will slip
They will fall from us,
And all will be lost
So we make them stay,
Come back on Sundays
Time to celebrate,
Communicate,
Appreciate what they have,
And how it came to be.
Through me.
Through us.
Will we do it?
Destruction? Revolution? No,
But a book we will write,
For the struggles,
For the fights,
For our bringer of light,
We spread the word.
That what we did in the past,
Though forgotten it will last,
We bring it back.
And through only our eyes,
Though we may despise,
There grows the web of lies.

Maybe, we will forget.