HOME | DD

Description
Man walks through the ages of the world
Adapting, conforming.
His creativity is a boat
Which sails upon waters of inspiration,
His internal drives an unseen rudder beneath the waves.
His ideals are adjusted to what seems logical,
To what is reasonable
Not only to himself, but others,
For popularity is the foundation for power.
Make them like you.
Yes, make them chant your name
As a mantra to unseen forces,
Treat you like an inhuman entity
Because you are an embodiment of their perceptions.
Let it be heard across the nations,
Over small rivers and grand mountains,
Over the dips of valleys and sunsets,
And over the great wide mouth of the blue ocean
From shore to shore.
And let it echo to the ears of those
Who so desperately need a savior
That they reach into uncertain origin
And martyr a simple man
Who wanted only to bring a message.
So that poses a question
Which lacks complexity in all forms,
Yet is rarely thought of:
If another man should step forth
And claim deviance from seven billion drones,
Cut and shaped and pieced onto a grand machine,
Shall he also be martyred?
Or will they, in their blind search for truth,
Close their minds to all possibilities
That are truly reasonable?
But none of that really matters,
For many step forth each day
And that question is answered hourly.
In all things, it seems,
Self-destruction is almost inevitable.
The question does not become 'who,'
'What,' 'why,' or 'how,' concerning our end,
Rather, quite simply
'When?'
Birth.
Corruption.
Destruction.
And then what shall become of us?
All things are reborn in new form,
I believe that wholeheartedly,
Even if none would agree.
But that is the beauty of subjectivity
Of perception and analysis;
It flows through a network in existence
Like blood in our veins.
And if there is no god to stop it,
To build a dam upon our earth
And end our ability to perceive,
To exist and be revived through another flesh,
Then it shall be there forever,
And so shall we.