(Stolen from an idea by Heinrich Heine)

You need only brave the rush hour
and cannot fail to recognise
the great army of modern Metropolis
those all dead behind the eyes
the drones who live in expectation
made maleable by religious text
-that those who have not ought in this life
will surely get all in the next

Me, I must face my maker
each day I walk the Earth
for I know with all conviction
no divine hand in my birth
for had I certain knowledge
that death would set me free
I would since have capitulated
and that would have been the end of me

and time was hence I saw the world
in all its illuminated wonder
but a brief tenure on that pedestal
before all did fall asunder
thereafter I have lived imprisoned
my mind holding lock and key
ah but no more efficient jailor
could there ever be for me

for I have seen the inner starlight
I have felt that love so bold
but now am wrenched back from nirvana
and plunged into the deepest cold
avoiding flags of St George crosses
that scratch the skin of hate beneath
parents show their tacit racism
and thus their hatred they bequeath

so as I watch the deadened souls
on their conveyor belt to toil
reading their newspaper stories
of the deaths incurred in wars for oil
returning home to Twitter/ Facebook
their Eastenders and/or the ‘Street
anaesthetising all their fire
a soporific slide into defeat

Song Of The Day ~ Voice Of The Seven Thunder – The Burning Mountain

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