The Arena

Words of cunning Shining stunning. Men of grandeur Blinding, numbing With winsome wiles in specious styles. Speeches etching, Rhyming, wrenching. Men so shallow Stumble fetching For words that maze, to clear their daze. Calm in disarray Sinking day by day Hopeless never see Save what they believe. Choices weakening, Ever sinking. Men are poisoned into thinking That they've a voice above their noise. Spheres of disarray Worsened by the day Sadly led and fooled Without thoughts to rule. --- The Arena - Fates Warning