The Place of Skulls and Bones

Acknowledge the fallacy of inflexibility,
And the danger of doctrine.
You rulers of the State,
Be disturbed not.
The coming of the King is antagonist.
He seeks no Earthly throne.

You have lived in sin.
The poor cry in your streets.
And you regard them not.
Your neighbors, who are they?
You have defrauded friend and foes alike.

Your hearts are far away
And set on gold.
Your priests have found
Upon The People burdens far too great to bear.
They live in ease
Upon the hard earned wages of the poor.
Your lawyers, your doctors, and your scribes
Are useless cumberers of the ground.
They are but mere tumors
On the body of the State.

They toil not,
Neither do they spin,
Yet they consume the profits
Your marts of trade.
Your rulers are adulterers,
Your rulers are extortionists,
And your rulers are thieves,
Whom regard not the rights of man.

And robbers ply their calling
In the Sacred Hill;
The Holy Temple you have sold to thieves;
Their dens are in sacred places set a part for prayer:
This is in the land of Skulls.