Indeed the fear of God has left our country and with it the fear of repercussions. No longer can we say we live in a respectful, dignified, and civilized society. We are savages living in a dream world of delusions of grandeur. Like Lady Macbeth’s advice to her husband we have become the snake lying beneath the rose. There are few men among us, most are cowards hiding behind banners of law and posts of import. Fools do not reckon ancient wisdom and believe themselves clever mavericks of a new magic that has leeched the earth since the dawn of time. Despiséd parasites, sons of Cain, you have been marked and your punishment will come, not at the hand of your brethren but by the hand that made you. With knowledge and understanding comes responsibility and instead you choose to play God weighing this person’s life against that one’s, believing yourself exempt, not realizing your own part in the game. Millions suffer and foot your bills while you gorge yourself with your spoils, patting yourself on the back, congratulating your work. Humanity is measured like stock and you delight in overtaking your friend. Fortunately:
Quicker this time,
I fall into myself
Again and again.
This is me.
I have been dreaming again
Terrible dreams that haunt me
Larger than life they taunt me
Because I fear they cannot be
“Me, me, me. People are like antiquated ideas about the nature of our universe. Falsely believing that the world extends from them all the while we continue to revolve around the true life sustaining forces: good and evil of which we are all only a means to an end never the goal itself, only the matter that allows the passage of time through space. Little minds concerned with little matters will never reach greatness, nor recognize it when they are in its presence for they will fail to see themselves in it.”
My hue-man-i-tie is born
Out of pain and shame I rise
In a lifeless room
With cold sheets and cold sweats
With a boldly beating heart
Filled with fear and love combined
Knowing the struggle is rewarding
Though it tears me up quite bad.
The caveman in me lives in the light now
Outside in the open and “free”
That’s what they tell me
I’m free now, free to be
Free to follow their rules and live by their laws
Free to be a piece of their chess game
Moved around where my potential can be harnessed
Where money can be made
Where someone wins and I always lose
Am I real?
Do I even exist?
Life came together and I was created.
Something happened that brought me to be.
Is it fate? Cause I don’t feel free.
I feel trapped in something I wouldn’t call life.
Expectations of what I am supposed to be.
Desires formed by others foreign to myself
Ideals I wouldn’t choose if I was my own.
If I was my own civilization wouldn’t exist
Society, propriety, what does it all mean?
My soul has been taken
It’s a prisoner of war.
Kept behind bars
Deep down inside my body
How do I reclaim my beloved old spirit
How do I make it my own
Unafraid, bold, not obtrusive, gentle, and sweet.
Who am, I who are you?
Where do we stand in the passage of time?
Where are we headed?
What’s the end to this game we call living?
We hide behind masks we think set us free.
Use and abuse
Dear God I wish it wasn’t so.
We don’t understand
What is the meaning of life?
And if I wasn’t meant to ask then why is it I can think?
It is a torture
A never ending pain
In this world we all call home
I wish I was really home
Not here not there not anywhere
Just living and loving and being happy
Not thinking not feeling not anything
Just existing without
Without you without me without anything
Just being perhaps breathing and seeing what it means to be alive.
I don’t know anyone who has lived
Only boxes with something bouncing there inside
Wishing they were something, someone real.
I cant wrap my brain around it
The shadows on the wall
They keep dancing
Put me in a trance
I think I’ll call it destiny
Do I have the right to be
Or is it just a privilege that I’m here?
They say life is a gift
Count your blessings
Life is beautiful
You only live once
You are lucky to be alive
But if life is a privilege why does it feel I have been cursed
Marked with sin and desire
We are the product of our circumstances
Making the most of what we have. Doing the best we can. Looking for solutions.
Preaching, demanding what is ours. But what is ours? If even the smallest portions of ourselves are contrived.
What is truth and what is real?
Feed me that because I want to live a life that’s real.