Coming Unglued Poem by grace mariner

Our little band of thieves is in danger of the worst kind,
the kind that comes from within.
It is insidious by nature, lurking and slithering to
infiltrate at the most critical moment.
We are chaos personified.
Iago is at the helm and steering us to disaster.
Aren't our goals the same anymore?
They no longer seem to be congruent as the destroyers
cast their critical eye.
My life has been spent throughout with such treachery.
I can no longer accept the hatred and indignation heaped
on an innocents head.
The true, the pure intent of this mission is lost when
we crucify one so that our failures and insecurities
cannot be viewed in the bright eye of the day.
Equal pieces of the same puzzle, they seek to take
what never belonged to them.
And the group, themselves included, fails.
They assassinate one but kill themselves in the process.
This was not calculated into their equation.
Oh these are not radicals.
Nor are they terrorist cells with a higher, more obtuse agenda.
They are not busy bees who die to save the queen.
They have no illusion of sanctity or duty,
only poison and jealousy.
This makes them most dangerous indeed!
They smile and cajole all while plotting their overthrow.
Mutinous traitors whose own plot devours them.
Ignorance and arrogance a most lethal brew makes!