A Poem, An Answer, A Dark, Remedial Solution

Sport and Jest, Sport and Jest, Sport and Jest
The Thrice cup of lightness drink down
And splosh the laughter all around
While babies' blood wails from the ground

Sport and Jest, Sport and Jest, Sport and Jest
Continual parties for your ales
But you ensue your own driven nails
On coffins for young, sturdy males

Sport and Jest, Sport and Jest, Sport and Jest
The Games are played in arenas
Yet are won by blood thirsty hyeanas
Whose stripes always bleed through

Progressive Seasons of Lent on the forehead
Will light shine through?
Will light shine through?
Will light shine through?

A Judgment, An Council, A Dark, Remedial Solution