Axiom Of Free Will

Axiom Of Free Will
© Surazeus
2026 09 27

Driven to live by axiom of free will, 
we humans clash in wars to control air 
by twisting light of quick atomic lust 
into swift piston-powered time-machines 
so we race through expanding maze of dreams 
to catch ghost of wealth before we all die. 

I dare not pay this time its needful woe 
since grief, at thought that millions of sweet souls 
suffer and die in shocking agony 
through countless centuries of clockless change, 
twists my heart with helplessness of desire 
to protect the living from pain of fear. 

Our fragile bodies of bones bound with nerves, 
and muscles tense with terror of attack, 
vibrate with passion of powerful faith 
to fight against oppression of the strong 
as we secure safe haven from their greed 
in loyal union of communal creed. 

Through better act of purposes we play 
direct attention to commissioned faith 
that blinds our eyes to perceive what is real, 
since faith presents what we most hope is real, 
yet veils the real that pains our hearts to see, 
which leaves us stumbling against obstacles.

We overcome through axiom of free will 
illusions of hard obstacles that block 
assertive progress of our psychic growth 
as we reprogram how our minds perceive 
complex process of social games we play 
through fraught interactions of give and take. 

I cry woe for brave people of this land 
who once thrived well to work daily routines 
constructing goods from raw material forms 
to produce wealth of our national pride, 
but now our free minds are enslaved by greed 
through sweet enchantments of commercial thieves. 

Deceived by outward show of businessmen, 
whose flashy wealth convinced our eager hearts 
that hard work will earn rich rewards of wealth, 
we clutch at tattered rainbow fantasy 
that money trickles down to callused hands, 
which we stretch empty to the godless sky. 

Inspired to work by axiom of free will, 
we sort through trash of treasures we obtain 
by plundering bounty of this generous globe, 
yet find no more than baubles of regret 
that clutter quaint suburban homes with junk 
which gleamed so bright in church of holy lies.