Painting On The Wall

Painting On The Wall
© Surazeus
2023 11 10

As if to note the painting on the wall, 
that depicts the man with the golden gun 
protecting the good people of the land 
from aggressive fascists with liberty, 
is not enough to claim right of the law, 
we drink wine and process anxiety. 

Because everything the mute worker makes 
with their hands in the factory of faith 
can be sold to the people of the land, 
we share grand mission of the noble mind 
to provide liberty for every soul 
who walks the Earth with hands of hungry hope. 

The battle cry that rallies us from sleep 
leads us to gather in the common square 
where children of the forest play guitar 
and talk about pursuit of happiness 
before the crumbling of the wall of fear, 
replete with sweet smile of anxiety. 

Soon enough do the daughters of the tree 
arrive in town with the erudite key 
that opens doors of opportunity 
for those who believe they should own the sea 
because we know as true what we can see, 
acts of injustice in land of the free. 

Who would deceive the people of the land 
with sacred vision of justice and truth 
will buy the yacht of dancing skeletons 
in search for sentimental art that proves 
we are superior to all other nations 
because we possess more nuclear bombs. 

With the howling banshee of the leaf blower 
the famous painter on sabbatical 
erases spider webs around his home 
in bold assertion of his right to live 
safe on sacred land his ancestors stole, 
then drinks his cold beer in the twilight zone. 

No tribe is entitled to any land 
though their ancestors lived there centuries 
for we are transient occupants of time, 
fragile as leaves blown by the autumn wind, 
therefore the right to occupy this space 
is won by strength of bullets forged from words. 

I dwell forever in House of the Lord 
where he provides grand feast for all who vow 
obedience to social law he declares, 
because his rod that comforts can destroy, 
so I paint portrait of his haughty mien 
and hang it on the wall of liberty.