As proud as Satan,
As good as God himself;
This is the biased tale
Of Them:
The all-knowing ignorants.
Their fragile eyes could not
See what They knew was Truth.
But within the eternal organ
Dreams have made It up.
And quickly They were attached,
Each, to What was created.
Hope got Them together;
Hope separated Them.
Poor mortal fellows
Had thoughts of fantasies
That seemed as real
As real could ever be.
And with every dream came
A story of divine.
But within the eternal organ
Also nightmares.
So some fell indisposed.
Some bowed to the terror.
Fear got Them together;
Fear separated Them.
Lost in ethereal felony,
And tragic abuse of illusion,
They hustled, and grudged,
And snapped, and slaughtered.
Who is dreaming right?
What nightmare is just?
So the hurt eternal organ
Had to communicate.
Some listened and accepted.
Some listened but could not.
Word got Them together;
Word separated Them.
Pride of the deaf;
Goodness of the true;
Bias of the protected;
Science of the absence;
Them.
YOU ARE READING
Of Agony And Hope
PoetryA random collection of poetry, each telling a story that only happens between the time you start reading, and the time you've stopped...
