Fathers Of Lies Poem by Adams King

Those who slew the cock
have come to sympathize with the hen
That evil deed they did in a night so dark
Where no eyes nor ear were conscious
but mine was, my poetic consciousness

Will I speak the truth of yesterday
only to have my head on a trail tomorrow
Will my tongue chose to betray my head
with that which the eyes have seen
all for the sake of truth and bravery

I closed my doors and windows
Pretending not to see, but I saw
O Me! Perfect in my sentinels act
deep into darkness they took him
to crown him lifeless in a palace of death

Now they came with a changed coat
like a chameleon
The devils at night became an angel at dawn
To bury their unseen sin to claim
a face of righteousness
Earning praises of truthfulness
While still their untruthful heart remains

I know you now evil Messiah
I'm no more the doubting Thomas I use to be
nor a fool trusting hearing than sight
For I have seen, and no piteous or pious face
You put on, can change that which I've known

For I saw the rivers drowning the fishes
I watched the fathers burying their own sons
I saw tragedy disguised in form of laughter
I saw mothers emptying pots to starve their daughters
rendering milkless breast with bitter nipples

Who will i prech this scriptures of truth to
To unbury them and unearthen their face
To lay bare their nakedness and lies
Exaposing the night to the sun for the kings
of power to be ragged and dance with shame

Who will i tell the discoveries in my throat
or the secret behind the craft
of a chamealeons changing coat
Who will i uncover the tortoise shell to
Or show a place beneath the grass of green
Where slimy serpents settles

Should i throw precious eggs at rock
or rape the name of a wicked mother
in front of her sons
For i know no angel, if the sweet angels
I used to know could be that dangerous devil
at night, but at dawn a daint with crucifix

How many more mismanaging monkeys
will sit upin the throne
Throwing banana peel at us
Following the same faulty footsteps
How many shall we entrust with our crown
only to be drunk with poisonous powers

Tell me who will a child run to for pasture
when his mother and father are his curse
A man whose home has a hole on it's roof
never sleeps in comfort neither will his eyes
be filled with peace when heavily it rains

Haven't we bare more of our Father's whip
for better is a far away enemy
than that which is as close as a brother
If our Fathers could make us miserable
Why won't a stranger make a slave of us

What will I say or write to my people
To untangle their heart from lies
To wake them from their bed of thorns
and see through the hard coconut
that our Fathers are the causes of our death