Free of The World
Zero sum
None for no one
Steal what you can from yourself
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to live
to eat
to sleep
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Those who have hoard for fear of loss
They hoard the immaterial in the hopes of living forever
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The past echoes
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Masters in all but name
They hang themselves on the cables they strung
They crack under the weight of logistics
We all suffer when the engine goes unfed
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Like an unstopped butterfly needle in a vein
all life flows from humanity and the earth
We amass blood and poison. bury it, and yearn to forget
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We build tools
tools to shift burning desert to lush forest and back again
We burn them on the pyre
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The gear turns crushing fingers
A sledgehammer used where a razorblade would do
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The past echoes
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Let us free the earth of our ignorance
Let us free ourselves of needless burdens
A world where food not of this earth is coasted downhill into our larders
A world where flesh yields as and reshapes like gold to a jeweler
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"With our hands on the Devine while waist deep in the muck"
Like a barn rotting in a field people naturally fall inward
Self destructing as if to declare them a child of entropy
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As if we are being given fireless light for the second time
Clinging to inaction with undreamt piety
Extend you hands in the hope of sieging the future
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Through luck and stubbornness. Hope and foolishness
Eyes drift. Hands and feet push forward. The few become the many.
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The past echoes
