Revolutions Of New Gods
© Surazeus
2018 12 30
So fast approaching the end of the world
we pause and sit by the loud waterfall
to contemplate the motions of large crowds
swirling through endless maze of city streets
who flow around still silence of our truth
in shimmering flood of passion that dissolves.
While armies of men swarm across vast fields
to annihilate each other in blasts of flame
I tend small garden of vegetables and herbs
which I store in glass jars on frail wood shelves
then I sit by the window as snow falls
to eat and sing about sorrow of love.
We sweep the old order off the mute Earth
to smash hierarchy of unequal power
and cast grand idols of marble to dirt
so all classes are erased from our minds
which empowers all men and women to live
free according to desires of their will.
All empires are built on the backs of farmers
whose magic hands produce food from the soil
so we must give them everything they need
and guard their lives from invaders with guns
for if they fall into the blood-soaked land
we cannot bake bread from flesh of our god.
We overthrow the haughty sons of Christ
to free our fertile land from tyranny
then elect our brothers to manage projects
producing food so everyone may eat
but they erect themselves as gods on Earth,
becoming the tyrants we overthrew.
Our planet spins around the blazing sun
and water flows down mountains to the sea
as new generations rise from the Earth
and fight each other to control the land,
judging who will die for effects they cause
and who will feast on rich blood of the farmers.
My ancestors ruled in castles of stone
till their sons deserted their games for power
and migrated west to the wilderness
where they build new empire to rule the world
so I sit alone in my silent lab
and map history of political gangs.
Alone on misty slope of Mount Takoma
I stand beside the waterfall of time
and gaze across the history of mankind
to watch empires rise and fall like sea waves
that smash themselves to drops against hard rocks
in constant revolutions of new gods.
© Surazeus
2018 12 30
So fast approaching the end of the world
we pause and sit by the loud waterfall
to contemplate the motions of large crowds
swirling through endless maze of city streets
who flow around still silence of our truth
in shimmering flood of passion that dissolves.
While armies of men swarm across vast fields
to annihilate each other in blasts of flame
I tend small garden of vegetables and herbs
which I store in glass jars on frail wood shelves
then I sit by the window as snow falls
to eat and sing about sorrow of love.
We sweep the old order off the mute Earth
to smash hierarchy of unequal power
and cast grand idols of marble to dirt
so all classes are erased from our minds
which empowers all men and women to live
free according to desires of their will.
All empires are built on the backs of farmers
whose magic hands produce food from the soil
so we must give them everything they need
and guard their lives from invaders with guns
for if they fall into the blood-soaked land
we cannot bake bread from flesh of our god.
We overthrow the haughty sons of Christ
to free our fertile land from tyranny
then elect our brothers to manage projects
producing food so everyone may eat
but they erect themselves as gods on Earth,
becoming the tyrants we overthrew.
Our planet spins around the blazing sun
and water flows down mountains to the sea
as new generations rise from the Earth
and fight each other to control the land,
judging who will die for effects they cause
and who will feast on rich blood of the farmers.
My ancestors ruled in castles of stone
till their sons deserted their games for power
and migrated west to the wilderness
where they build new empire to rule the world
so I sit alone in my silent lab
and map history of political gangs.
Alone on misty slope of Mount Takoma
I stand beside the waterfall of time
and gaze across the history of mankind
to watch empires rise and fall like sea waves
that smash themselves to drops against hard rocks
in constant revolutions of new gods.
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