Featuring all astrologers smoothsaying and soothsaying, I see your stars misalign and your future crackling up like feeble melamine.
The mirrors turning to shards and the fortune telling bequeathing tragedy.
Little Lying Astrologer
// poetry
Seen a Red moon
Pearling circumference in my head
A knife against the Conniving Astrologer
For every gullible soul they've bled.
Breaking relationships
Setting a divisive fire with crafty counsel
Promising good tidings via soothsaying
Don't know onto him if we must pounce or pouncel.
A malicious "Prosperity auctioner"
Proclaiming prudence and wisdom of the stars
The stars are a smokescreen to the wicked
Behind them are addictive iron bars.
Like a gambler's incessant need to gamble
A needle to the itching vein of a consumer
These magicians are nothing but superstitious,
The occult is an age-old parasitic tumor.
Dispossessing the orphans and the widow,
Displacing their prosperity into power and greed,
The upper echelon shall stumble upon these advisors
Way more than an oracle shall they need.
