Mute Under The Mulberry Bush
© Surazeus
2018 10 02
People crowd the narrow streets of the slum,
searching for the rainbow beyond the hills
that promises escape to paradise
where delicious fruit grows free on large trees.
Leaving behind sun-lit groves of the woods,
forest tribes migrate to bright sprawling cities
where they crowd in large slums on the outskirts,
shut out of their lush gardens by brass gates.
Faceless warriors organize men in gangs
who fight each other in endless turf wars
while their children run laughing through the maze,
and the nameless queen sings on roofs at night.
The wealthy elite in mansions of gold
enclose lush paradise with walls of stone
and feast at long tables heaped with fresh fruit
while millions of poor chew crusts of stale bread.
The long-haired prophet stands before large crowd
and preaches salvation from poverty
while he describes gold mansions on high hills
for all who proclaim that Jesus is God.
They proclaim their belief in the World King
but Jesus never returns from bright clouds
yet still they wander in stark misery
though they give money to priests of the church.
The time for revolution comes again
when people clinging to power of their wealth
are swept away by tides of social change
and common people rise to run the show.
Around on the merry-go-round of power
we spin the wheel of fortune in our favor
till we all fall down in the dance of death
and lie mute under the mulberry bush.
© Surazeus
2018 10 02
People crowd the narrow streets of the slum,
searching for the rainbow beyond the hills
that promises escape to paradise
where delicious fruit grows free on large trees.
Leaving behind sun-lit groves of the woods,
forest tribes migrate to bright sprawling cities
where they crowd in large slums on the outskirts,
shut out of their lush gardens by brass gates.
Faceless warriors organize men in gangs
who fight each other in endless turf wars
while their children run laughing through the maze,
and the nameless queen sings on roofs at night.
The wealthy elite in mansions of gold
enclose lush paradise with walls of stone
and feast at long tables heaped with fresh fruit
while millions of poor chew crusts of stale bread.
The long-haired prophet stands before large crowd
and preaches salvation from poverty
while he describes gold mansions on high hills
for all who proclaim that Jesus is God.
They proclaim their belief in the World King
but Jesus never returns from bright clouds
yet still they wander in stark misery
though they give money to priests of the church.
The time for revolution comes again
when people clinging to power of their wealth
are swept away by tides of social change
and common people rise to run the show.
Around on the merry-go-round of power
we spin the wheel of fortune in our favor
till we all fall down in the dance of death
and lie mute under the mulberry bush.
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