Thursday, March 16, 2017

The world, it is not for me

The world, it is not for me,
There is beautiful poetry about chasing me into the sea,
And every blame that can be laid, surely, they fit right on me,
I am unwelcome in my country,
As is truth, but it means so little.

Injustice is celebrated,
Genuine cares obliterated.

And justice, my life's pursuit,
A mockery. A sham.

Honey lipped deceivers flourish,
And the ignorant are allowed to govern,
But I am guiltless,
At least for now,
I am at peace with God, and Mother Earth.

And if not for my love of God, I'd leave the Earth,
What can ever be achieved within its domain.
Like the Titans, it eats its offspring,
And the world, is but a trap,
Waiting to draw you in.

I believed your lies once,
But your ideals were false and self serving,
Foolish me, I guess,
But I still believe in ideals.
Just not yours. Yours are false lies.

Wealth is illusion.
Just the right dry spell, and all is quickly lost.
And poverty can be quickly alleviated,
Or, so we are told, by those who make it all the worse.
By those after others' wealth.

Devil's tales are spun so well,
And the masses buy into them,
And kill for them,
And hate for them,
Oh, how good it is to feel so righteous and to hate,
To hate the innocent as the devil,
To retell history,
And to tell all good they've done as a foul tale,
And the benefits you have as reparation, and act of God, good fortune,
Never theft. But it is. It is theft. In your heart, you know it.

I'm unwelcome in my country, I've always been.
I'm better for it, for the things I've seen.

I'm sceptical of the world,
It's a trap, you see.

You signal your virtue over me,
Your ill gotten claims,

But, I have studied history, broadly, and spanning millennia,

Fool that I am, speck of dust I may be,
But my end is something to consider,

As millennia shift, shape, and pass,
You'll only be remembered for your hate.

I'll be forgotten altogether.
At least, by your false world, your soiled histories, you see!
Or, rather, you don't, I think that may be the point.