Birthed Us

A poem I made and forgot about months ago. Enjoy!

The mirthless earth that has birthed us will witness our human hubris, our cruelness, amusement

So break me

Make me

Someone crazy

Call me Satan’s baby

Evil

Grade me

And decide how much I’m worth

And how little I deserve, from the fate that birthed us

Serve me this meal so appealing in this ethereal mess, bless me, but make me feel empty

Oppress my being with no feelings, less memories than lives in the cemetery

Plenty of heavenly penniless obscenities mention me eventually remember December dismembered in the embers of time, chiselled pieces of rhyme fill my mind along with the unkind behind the chimes of the bells of Notre Dame

Men are all the same, we are to blame for our hatred, our pain

Hear my voice, feel my shame, fear my name, chain the deranged and the picture frames in a catastrophically cinematic experience so furious that nothing previous, the delirious mirage of gods will etherealize and fuel the lies to bend the mortal babes into monsters of the day forced to behave depraved and degrade with devils of the night, changed

Betray our rights and set our sights on the heavens to quell our hunger and monger our armies onward bonded to our hatred, blinded by the sacred, shatter the stars with our dreams and steel beams, battered like the scars on our faces and latent fascist patriots of lies too blatant, patriots of hatred

That they can’t understand the undone creation breaking the bastions that fashion the noose from the years of abuse onto the neck, the throat of the world, and bring mother nature into suffocation for the sake of the nation onwards for glory, humans are holy, think of ourselves only, proud of the reality we’ve stolen, never sorry for borrowed times and empty eyes that see the lies and smother the truth under the bruises of a dying world, one that we cannot survive in, the only thing alive in our hearts, the will the art to rip our privilege apart, our paradise marked for construction, our euphoria, our destruction

And call ourselves better, say it was worth it, that we deserve it, and all other life is our servant, but below the surface, hurt is not our purpose, we are imperfect, humanities worthless, ever so courteous, to the earth that has birthed us

Author's Note

I very seldom reply to reviews, but I promise I read EVERY single one. I look forward to my next review because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be ecstatic to have the chance to hear what you have to say. Whenever you write something about my poems, or the themes of my poems, or criticize me it is not in vain. I will listen, learn and be thankful.

Reviews

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This is shorter than most of your poems. And easy to understand too....
Can't type much today... but know that the poem is really nice.
Good Luck!

Thank you!