The Muses of Happiness

What is the plague,
what is the plague?

Is it the virion? Is it the germ?
Or is it callous disregard
For those different and infirm?
Is it the offspring of Narcissus
Who see their reflection in
The vain Gods of progress?

What is the plague,
what is the plague?

We were living, we are dying,
And the selfish keep denying
It's a plague we are defying.
We were dying, but we're surviving
The plague of righteous fascists
Who've been wickedly conniving.

What is the plague,
What is the plague?

We are living in a test
Of our resilience at its best.
So we hope, and strive, and pray
To make it through another day
Hunkering down, and turning away
From touch we crave every which way.

What is the plague,
What is the plague?

We cry at needless loss
When lives we love become the tossed
Bodies in cold cold containers
As the dross of sycophancy
bill for their ridiculous retainers
As we become the pawns in necromancy.

What is the plague,
What is the plague?

The plague is human hubris,
Pride of place and pride of stature,
With souls that are infractured
By the synapses of greed and callous
Disrespect for the being that is earth
And the beings that have worth.

Greed is the plague,
Greed is the plague.

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