I open my eyes and see suffering.
Mouths grotesquely contorted
Faces wet and shining
I see suffering
Suffering for salvation of a select few
O Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.
Try and change the station, but to no avail
For you, no bailout will be posted.
Your soul composted, to fertilize the seeds of new dollar trees
Tears irrigate, sustaining pantomimed debate
Inflation rate rising
Body count rising
The veil we live behind and within
As we’ve yet to transcend our aspirations for material greatness
Forsaking the divine, caught in the pantomime of dollars and cents
Forgetting our senses
Unable to sense the scent of bullshit
As our nostrils fill with the intoxicating aroma of lily white lies
It’s toxic, hating.
Yet we are angry
We are the bitterly broken beasts of burden
Beholden to bear the brunt of yesterdays’ misfortunes
Gazing anxiously skyward
Unable to see the stars so we wish on the clouds
Praying new rain brings forth a new beginning
Gently washing the dust from our wings
That we may rise like sparrows lost in a song of our own creation.
Emerging into ourselves
Blurring the division between metaphysics and “reality”
Allowing our consciousness to become our conscience
Bound no more.