Sweet nothings and a unit test.

I have seen those thumbs
Spinoza's victims, fattened sheep
Ready for shearing, scurrying
Frantically in pockets deep
Inside, hunting the dried farms
Lining outside the feudal keep
Convergence with a vengeance
Succumbing to steady state
Miseries below the curve
Unbridled, thus inflate
Expectedly, empirically
Crumbling to rebate
By the mercies of the 'Lord'
And the divinities that predate.