Discarded dogmas

Dawn rose with her rosy fingers
Scattering her light across the land
Yet that hideous stench still lingers —
of corruption worse than the African rand.

The débris of discarded dogmas
Strewn across the floor
The works of failed philosophers
Thrown right of the door.

They had claimed it was no ideology
"A project only" they cried
However they offered no apology
To the thousands who yet had died.

"Iterability" was their rallying cry
Deconstruct or die
But no one stopped to ask "why?"
There was no one to stop the lie.

It ravaged throughout the land
Sweeping all in its path
Resistance to the text was aband-
oned for fear of its awful wrath.

And so I shall cease from my verse
Hesitant which way to turn
I fear lest my sanity get worse
When there's so much to learn
(shurely shome mishtake — Edna).