12 October 2008

Baked Till We Were Dry

Defeat, frustration, anger, rage –

A burning sensation from the pits;

Teeth clenched, with fingers itching

To crush bone and tear every sinew.

Tyranny and totality throughout the year 1984,

From Orville to Orwell, a flight to death.

Revenge existent but in a tight chamber,

Empty spaces created where birds died on their own.

A new order for containing chaos,

To cut the crimes at their root;

To feed a greater hydra than Hydra,

It was back to being lost in the deathly drums.

Politics was mixed with life to hope for peace,

Crime and drugs gave you a high,

They suggested death for disobedience,

They said we’d live safe and long.

People rotted by the thousands,

Carrion was strewn, corpse over corpse.

The vultures circling miles above

Screeched a signal to stop the fuss

Over dressing and burying the dead.

The parties in power tried to isolate

Fury from feeling and anger from agony.

They evaporated emotion from our eyes,

They convinced us of our crimes.

They cut our bonds, they let us free

To run around and feel ourselves.

They cut us free from the world,

We wandered off to the realms beyond.

The death of chaos in an orderly world

Is like a wave frozen in motion.

The carrier of peace is the hated anarchy

That prevails and outlives our kind.

Those minds failed to see

That the constant fight between good and evil

Is but a ceaseless motion to run the world.

1 comment:

Sirish said...

the irony of it all...i really like this work, the title's apt and the rest of it constructed with such finesse..the 6th one stands out. a fine one, compadre !