Pharmacide

Artificial Paradise – Painting by Beverly Fishman

 

Hailing from humble beginnings with a creed
to heal, save; to alleviate and to exonerate
Swearing with palms raised that they’ll heed
the cries of those in dire straits and the illiterate
 
They espouse wilful help for those in need
with astute and altruistic promises, they radiate
But midway, alas overcome by sheer greed
with reasons they can’t ever substantiate
 
They have evolved to be vermin and parasites
bleeding the destitute, desperate and impecunious
For they harbour sharp steely fangs to bite
deep into the veins of the mass; fully conscious
 
Driven in chariots so regally; yet they contrite
to pretend as they are benevolent and gracious
Believe not their lies and hackneyed trite
since their parlour of deception so capacious
 
Simply they are charlatans of derisive proportions
wielding torturous whips with thorns embedded
They strike mercilessly with conscience’s aberration
and when you lay upon death’s door, you’re grated
 
These are the egregious; no scruples in tarnation
lowly as they’ll be yet they are wholly celebrated
Impeccably bejewelled and adorned in fine fashion
soon their souls pounded to ash and calibrated
 
The culling in war these evil healers’ heave
scores lay dead, by the roads, more in the fields
Too many to count just dumped in mass graves
but the scourge of AIDS many folds shall yield
 
More bodies, infant, young and old, scores will grieve
but the evil lords will rejoice for their fortunes build
Each day they pray more shall fall so they’ll achieve,
amid a plethora of hypocrisy in their rapacious guild