Justice

A lie, a harmonic one
A seductive melody
Sang by the corrupt
Harvested by the gullible and ignorant
Bellyful with the deceit
Deceit painted in centuries of makeup
Which makes us look up to it
With ardent respect and belief

Justice is a lie wearing a white wig
It is the guilty calling a colleague depraved
It is the innocent if there be such a thing
Being pounded beneath the fat worm's gavel
It is the virtuous that is put on the scale
With stones in his pan
And nothing in the other
Where is the justice in that

Is it justice for one to be killed by those he didn't offend
Is it justice for the obvious to be termed circumstantial
Is it justice for forgery and fiction to be styled as fact
Is it justice for personal wants and opinions to be a verdict
Such a cantankerous system is what we rely upon
A vile system that ties its eyes with a seethrough scarves
That cuts the uninvolved and cuts the chains of the culpable
It isn't faulty, it is a flawless machine, a perfect system.

A system with blood for lipstick
A system so well orchestrated
So well charted
Why wouldn't it be?
We've spent hundreds of years perfecting it's every nut
We've lubricated every joint with pure evil
We've been fueling its engine with undiluted hate for ages
There is no such thing as justice