A poem for the differently-abled

In the dark of civilization
Beowolf lusted to slaughter Grendel
a neanderthalic remnant
half-bred to hide in the remaining colder region
with the noise of a dominant tide
rising above the din of glaciers melting down
fading away the dawn of time
had differential gears
nooks, crannies, skewers
eclectic celestial chords of discord
disquieting to the troubled and lost
wanderers around the margins
of the cultivated economy
where wars are profitable
even in potential the industry of death
removes the odd against discomfort
destroys the devastation of equality
with those differently abled
disarmed souls of silence
repressed by legions of drones
games of thrones.