Robber Barons down the years
With no compassion in their hearts
Practice their cruel brutality
With gleeful brazen treachery.
With arrogance sufficient to sink a ship
They strut and preen and snarl
Stamping down the bewildered
They rode amid the blood and guts
Roaring, slashing, trampling
With gay abandon
To steal the fruits of other’s labors
And love it all the more
For the agony
Once with chainmail and sword
Now armed with a suit and pen,
Their cold eyes
Belie the intrinsic pleasure
As they strip you naked
And leave you for dead.
Shaking your hand with a smile
As they grip you by the throat
And never relax the vice-like grip
Upon your balls.
There are a psychotic, sociopathic group of men, mainly men, who have operated down the centuries to rampage and destroy, rape, torture and strip bare. Their callous viciousness attracts like-twisted monsters who go along for the ride. They plunder all they can and enjoy the anguish and destruction they leave in their wake.
In a harsh environment people put their energies into creating harmony and clawing a living out of the ground. They slowly build up and create comfort for their family, storing up resources over the decades, only to find all their toil undone.
In a matter of minutes the hordes rampaged through ravishing, burning, plundering and laying waste. Rape and torture is their currency. Havoc is their joy. For it is easier to rip the goods of others from their hands than to produce it oneself.
When they rode off through the smoke the survivors gathered to survey the carnage, bury the dead and attempt to rebuild their lives.
These robber barons ruled the land, built the castles and became the law. They stole all they could, enclosed it, claimed it and held it by force.
They are still there. Their land is still walled off. The newbies wear they suits and flash their perfect smiles as they strip you of your life.
They’ve always enjoyed the agony. One man’s freedom is another man’s terror.