Era of The Ruined Gods

Inspired by the Beat Generation of Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg and co. My first attempt at Poetry it is the expression of my feelings toward conformists and their influence.

I bite and bite till blood flows steadily

Anger taking the place of confusion

Who do they think they are to condemn so easily

My hero my icons my gods and yet they exploit

 

Look elsewhere

look to the road the path lies in asphalt and dirt

I take the advice of my new god

my god for the week, my god for the weak

 

I am inspired but my god lay squashed beneath the foot of theirs

The colossal puts his hand over me as I turn from red to black

Shedding his last tears of omnipotence my god resigns in defeat

What used to be inspirational is now beat

 

I smell and inhale I inject and swallow

While they take the ruined remains of my god and make something worse than hollow

He comes to me in a vision and says settle my son

Our time once was and never again will come

 

My friends and family and peers and colleagues

All march unconscious before my eyes

Why has Chronos cursed me

I cry and I plead for D.M to take me to paradise

 

I hear shots and crying, drums and gibberish

And for once I stand up and hand the boy a solution

Just then the commander steps out from the shadows and replaces it with a gun

I crawl back into my hole and wait for the next revolution

 

In the vast desert of this post apocalyptic world

That I once loved and loathed

I find the last of my kind

The barbaric animals with clouds always following

That will one day mold my mind