#Presstitutes

In not-so-far future

In a land not far away

I see a dystopian world

where corpses all around lay

With nose covered and squinted eyes

The reporters try to pry

Into the land painted red with blood

And no men left to cry

All the soap in the world

cannot cover up the stench

Of the blood on the hands of man

who pushed his brother in a trench

And for what did this

World burn down?

For there was no money,

No pearls, nor crown

It was just a small debate

that media spun out of shape

The peddlers of conflict,

evil, murder and rape.

These vultures feed on misery,

To Devil, they sold their soul

They greet you with brightly made-up faces,

And hearts darker than coal

Making news and selling them

Is profession of these #Presstitutes

Help not, but capture on camera

The plight of grieving and destitute

Secularism, Equality, Development

These ideals are just buzzwords

They would rather serve you misery

Or narrate you an ancient curse

Peace and harmony are unwanted

For they add fire to the fuel

Egging brothers to fight

They relish a good duel

People batten down the hatches

And sit tight, don’t fret, nor frown.

As in the garb of news reporters,

There’s a new breed of wolves in town.