Pied Pipers of Hate

Some pose as proud pied pipers, like old tales of Hamelin lore.
As poisonous as vipers–perhaps a little more.
They spew their vitreous venom from shore to shining shore.
When they’re done–they’ve had their fun–they're back again for more.

 Their followers are avid–packs of rabid, maddened dogs.
To question them–that's such a sin–these doting demagogues.
You may be drawn and quartered–you might even be flogged.
An outcast who will never last–so spare the dialogue.

 
Hell, it hath such fury, curries favor from those adorned.
Pied pipers know their masses grow; my friends, you have been warned.
Don’t follow in their footsteps, don’t worry if you are scorned.
No playful winks–just stop and think–their swelling heads are horned.

 
Like rats led to the slaughter, warn daughters, wives and sons,
avoid their songs, don’t tag along—you do, they've all but won.
Hate is the seed they need to feed the evil they've begun.
Stand up and fight for what is right, then watch those cowards run!