Incessant Deception Poem by Paul Amrod

The devilish mistress is spreading her lethal trap
A net of temptation has clothed her weakness
Appearing perhaps competent however full of conceit
Giving a false impression of her Machiavellian handicap
which ends her results in a dead end street of fatal deceit.
Practicing blackmail is her daily exercise with unctuous sleekness
delivering her message without matter or substance.
Self-centered with a glutinous appetite for the nefarious
Dismissing community on her mission of arrogance
Perpetrating her cloak of secrecy with letters and the various
with attitudes of invincibility and her most obvious bleakness
pierces the souls of the sociable so self-consuming and precarious.
Sitting cold and calloused in the audience of her compatriots
she twists reality with a cunning stupidity and total ignorance.
She has constructed an edifice where she hides the racketeers
who launder her money with a bleach of poison for the zaniest.
Helped by the most brutal form of mafia she salutes the brigadier
as he gives her warrant to purchase villainous mini-nukes.
Planning on her Illuminati to come to her proverbial rescue
rendering her completely untouchable and miraculously immune.
Chasing her husband's flirtations and psychopathic blunders
to amuse her perversity of intimate invasion so ruthless and crude.
Dreaming of being the queen of the roost she bought a ranch on the moon
where she can settle undisturbed with her profile forgotten done under.
She came to a revelation one short joyous moment as a fluke
of Nature brought rain on her party and destroyed her fallacious mood.
All of her best providers and advisors have left in utter despair
frustrated with her lack of conscious as she sacks and plunders.
Born in Al Capone's windy city she never jammed the blues unaware
of the genius of Muddy Water or Otis Spann or other pioneers.
Driven by her miserliness and greed gave her a poor reputation
creaming criminals with unscrupulous methods to interfere
with a normal process of honesty crowning her as a billionaire.
Now her labyrinth has closed her escape from her iniquity
while the steeple bells chime for her disastrous final hours.
She was always a miserable actress sending chills up my spine
showing her absence of sincerity and a viable authenticity.
So I take my glass and toast to you with the finest Spanish red wine
praying for your departed opportunities for presidential power.
Considering all of your futile attempts which came to ensnare
your karma with flaws I still hope for your timely redemption.
The golden rule may appear a farce but there are those who truly care
because it brings precious plenitude and comfort without deception.