Game Of Insane Poem by Alfred Barna

Extremism only leads to evermore extreme
All in all, it just adds on to controller meme
Because no one sees when blinded men will hate
Injustice will never make things that are just
Inequalities will surly breed more and more distrust
But the moneyed-men think that all this fuss is great
Like mice set loose inside of a carefully crafted maze
There is but one outcome inside this sadistic craze
And desperate and starving head madly to the bait

The game of insane claps your hands
The game of insane, no one understands
The game of insane, tweet like a bird
Messaging to fools and no one can be heard
How long do we let those who brute force us to be ruled
How long do we allow their mouthpieces to keep us fooled?
Virtual villains, they rile us, to go about and do their killing
WWI & WWII we become accustomed so we are ready and willing
Then when all is said and done
We are but rubble, indebted, no matter who has won
The graveyards all bigger than they were before (just bulldoze them all into this patch)
And the moneyed men didn’t bother to keep score (no one they know got a scratch)
Just popped the cork to their bottles of champagne
Charmed, and patting each on the back, the game of Insane

When the men of power and of endless means
Get together to increase their wealth and their dreams
They just call it business, of what the poor men call conspiracy
They carefully buy up pawns and pieces to which they lay claim
No matter how it’s played, they know the ending is all the same
And we’re just duped into believing that we are free
When every once in a while, some break out from their spell
Everyone else is still sleeping, so there are very few you can tell
So they guilt all the outcasts to the sirens singling soft and sweetly

The game of Insane they laugh hard so you can cry
The game of Insane makes you take the poisons that you must buy
The game of Insane post it to the book
Yet they will censor anything that will expose their crook
Botting and algorithms to watch what you say and do
For the AI crawlers to monitor everything about you
Creating a Ministry of truth, so that they can con the youth
A collective of coercion; you can play as long as you don’t sleuth
Finding out the meaning, nothing is hidden, that shall not be revealed
Of the things they have kept us, for so long, they have concealed
What they have done in their crypts and in their caves
Of how they created minions and fostered slaves
They will be astounded by exposure of all they hoped to gain
They will also become familiar with the true rules of the game of Insane