The Suicide of Man

Written about 2001.

Remember when the lonely and the wicked shed their tears

The flaccid ghost of courage shrouded in his fears

What once was a tombstone, conscience sleeping in denial

A deathly cry to shake the dumbstruck voices from revile

 

A sleeping pilgrim wakes in faint echoes of a dream

Percieves a nightmare form, so unwise and so obscene

A litter of shrill voices screaming for their heart's desire

Poisoned gardens filled with vices, never to retire

 

Cultivating nihility for a large banquet of escape

Where the divine plants and poisons use our souls for bait

To purge these hellish organisms  from this barren land

Where the dusty trees have fallen into the desert sand

 

The wheels that turns for Father Time scoff at our indifference

Tears apart our feeble virtue, extinguishes resistence

Our refusal to envision this inferno we create

Our blind eyes stare in darkness: self-destruction is our fate

 

When all the winds of yesteryear come back to haunt our lives

The vengeful spirits of this world will guide us towards demise

No brimstone fires or great glaciers to rain on this lost land

Just self-capitulation...the suicide of man.

Reviews

[Adam Adams]

Very well - quite a poetry or i would say, a story it is. Well captured and nicely put into words fiend & deemed by the feeling of one's life. Liked the rhythmic flow as well besides of enjoying the storyline. You got me watch a movie through little-ness of words, i admit. Looking forward to reading your work, Kendall.