12:03

12:03                                                                 9/9/2015 

It’s three minutes past midnight

And where are we now

Still believing what we want

And still doing what we are told.

It is not an accident

That the flood comes

Picking up what we love

And carrying it all away.

The river starts in the mountains

And then it races to the sea

Cutting a groove in the land

Flowing downhill forever

Eternal and cold.

If you look downstream

You can see the end           

Be it good

Or be it evil.

Evil breeds in a vacuum

And conquers without opposition

Using deception

And lies

To get what it what it wants.

The good sleep

And the good believe

Manipulated and engineered

Since the age of five.

You can argue over cake

And we can fight over

A piece of paper

But in the end

It is all ashes

Blowing in the wind. 

Who are we pleasing

With all of our opinions

Be it popular or safe

Comical or dumb. 

Trading away those who raised us

And covering them with dirt

All for a momentary comfort

Soon gone away. 

Others fought

And said “never again”

But now we watch

It all go up in flames. 

Brighter than the sun

And stripping away flesh

All the power of the universe

Harnessed and eclipsed. 

Invaded by a Trojan horse

And deceived at every turn

The obvious betrayal

Orchestrated on cue. 

It is no accident

That man hates man

But the real hater is hidden

And always above reproach. 

But the real throne is empty

And awaits a worthy king

The one many have forgotten

Still revered by the good

The few, and the forgiven.