THE PEDOPHILE

The immaculate perfection of the white of their eye

casting a mute upon their evil intentions

The softness of their countenance

The veil of what an un-slightly horror hidden in hellish depths

Trodding in the familiar paths of our everyday lives

The most primal instincts of human need

Sweeping robes of the most sanctimonious of many world religions

the colourful kaleidoscope of our cultural doctrine

All forms of the scaffolding of our beliefs

Escher's artistic impression

Protean demons in angelic apparels

Hiding in the woods -

under such appellations as betrothal, slavery

and any form of sexual debasement against the human spirit

Clinging to the foliage of societal insanity

springing forth like weeds in today's world

So I dare say

Gone are the days when the baby saints gallivant in the wild,

In the unscathed niche of a fearless co-existence in fated heavenly eternity,

The ancient lores tell it loudly,

The weeds have outgrown the forest into our homes and worship houses

The wild(the city) isn't the same safe anymore as this monsters sprawl in wait

for our babies to snatch them from their mother's breast

Riding little reds shrouded in the shawls of wolfish clutches

and the company of honeycomb Promethean tongues

Rooted deeply in the forms of familiar village life

of kithship, kinship, spirituality and commerce

So this is an SOS -

Against the pedophile

Peeling the innocence of our babies before they cum men and woman of stature

the victim of the societal accidents

of psychopathic proclivities

Till themselves are morphed to reincarnation of their hijackers

The fundamental questions of our history

Of the outgrown weeds,

Of bad traditions and the careless abandonment of their guardian

stigmatizing majority - the learned helplessness of the watchmen

Against the cries of the victims

A cry -

Against the Pedophile.