Pseudo Heroes Poem by eve Taylor

You know their kind,

an always certain type,

guiding towards a better way,

religiously,

politically,

morality,

they seem to be,

so bright,

most can't see,

real life vampire's likely,

not of blood seeking,

although only in a drinking way not,

but in all other way's,

so similar to that lot,

worthy of following hype,

obviously so sound of mind,

til put later in history's story type,

all monster's alike,

they have a charismatic kinda fooling way,

one groups of crying fools follow,

like sheep falling to smarter prey,

promising similar to offering whey,

false hopes and dreams,

always liar's schemes,

or so it seems,

but you know,

they always and forever will,

be take their tolling toll,

in every aspect,

whatever consensus say,

always in some fashion,

a murderous way,

be it of life,

or that of mind,

history will always be,

full of that kind,

maker's of strife,

taker's of life,

no matter the cost,

lest they expend a loss,

they aren't mind's to claim lost,

though later be confirmed as such,

and when,

all is said and done,

people put down their hatred,

raise up their eyes,

crying "Why god? "

towards high skies,

disbelief in what's been done,

claiming ignorant to know,

what was the know,

although,

they were there for it's show,

often behind a curtain's bind,

never really being blind,

to top it all off,

pseudo heroes all,

radical psychos probably,

they all share their fall,

whether it be,

death or fading away,

that set's them free,

they're all monster's of history,

future and past,

at least as far as I can see.