To speak of a society spoiled two-fold,
heroic in character,
yet absent in measure.
That of ideals, which manifested
have foretold of no greater destiny,
than that of pleasure.
A glance over pages already wrote
reveals the bastardized
words great men spoke,
twisted to statuary, like the counterfeit holy
and sold into chattel.
Great minds do not draw lines,
nor do they divide.
They ask questions,
and find better ways to define,
which of us must rise, and how others will die.
A feast for the great men of Galilee-
perspective grudge and conscious,
and how we,
consume nightly, the cornucopia of desire
that overflows with wishes, with misery.
Ask and receive,
the head of John the Baptist,
look into his eyes and see,
witch hunts and us, as society
paralleled with the rising sea.
Consumed by self-satisfaction,
pariahs and prostrated accountability.
Silver platters, severed heads,
trophies that we feast upon,
until our deserving end. |
Submission Name: The Severed Head
