Angrily, they
Shook the cradle and brought it
To the peak of it's stable equilibrium
Before it falls back safely, unharmed.

But nobody is happy with what they just saw.
They all say "I've suffered, so should you."
They all claim the insurance only welfare states would give.
In good, they believe they have the right to boast.

But this is not good, this is the worst.
They all believe in communism now.
What happens to me should happen to you.
What I get you get twofold, so that I may get it threefold.

It is a cycle, off all words to choose.
So they rocked the cradle harder and harder
Making it sway to and fro with a danger
Matched only by the 'passion' in their eyes.

They claim it is passion, nothing more.
But passion and lust are not the same.
The lust and desire to see one suffer.
The lust of jealousy, what I can't have no one can.

The cradle rocks too much and it's contents spill
As do the contents of one's throat
As the smash of finely carved wood and the tumbling of dangerous pillows
Occur simultaneously.

A cycle is not the best word
To describe this woeful scene.
But a cycle has begin again and will never end
As long as cradle is standing, it will be rocked.

Kai posted at 9.44 p.m, 5-8-08


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