Sanction Of The Victim Poem by Cunctus Cope

The predator prowls streets of pyrite
Glass houses don't conceal to appeal
He knows he's the worst, yet he has no conviction
He thinks he can do the sanction of the victim

Spirit in flight and freefall
Altitude dropping fast
Doves come soiled and sweet
Doesn't matter which is last

A desperado dies with the dozen
Question the way or save the day?
He knows it's a sin to create more contradiction
So he lets it be - the sanction of the victim

See the sunken and the salvaged
Just what did we preserve?
Who squandered and who saved
Just what do we deserve?