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The tumbril rocks

‘long to the scaffold

And you still want

To negotiate

What will it take

To demonstrate

The poverty

Of capitulation

We’re all so drunk with the fallacy

We’re all so fucking content

To equivocate

And throw up our hands

So I refuse

To cast my lot with you

Traitorous

Collaborator

We only ever just contemplate

Without producing results

Believing we aren’t replaceable

But never willing to fight

Go on

Bury

Your head

In hypotheticals

We will

Meet again

With your

Bodkin pressed against my throat

The path that you’ve elected

To travel always lies

Between naive ambition

And blood and betrayal

Your empty musings

And sophistry are like

A conversation

With the firing squad