The Self Pleasing Lie

Your life goes on in your self pleasing lies.

Is it your deception from conspiracy?

You know,

I will never compromise,

Nor am I surprised.

 

Drive your kind underneath

The coldness of the night.

So come on,

Enter the precious light.

 

Your life goes on in your own mind

And in your own room.

The only habitat

Which sadly is a living doom.

 

Enemies and friends

Are divided by you,

But your life goes on

And one lie ends up in two.

 

All I have are these trees

In the field once called god.

The winter earth,

In shadows and light.

Black boots that marched these fields

Upon the snow so bright.

 

My life goes on

And I suffer like that man

That rose from the grave.

He suffered on a holy and sacred tree.

He promised our kind he would save,

But no one else could see.

 

You cannot cast my soul into hell,

Or my body for the mobs and their stones.

You can say the innocent suffer,

As you crush every skull and bone.

 

So you live your own life,

Your strange, sad life.

Secret nights,

Leave you begging for a way out.

And when it takes you,

You’ll know then

What it’s all about.

 

1/3/05

 

 

Author's Note

Artwork: Vladimir KoniArt Salis

Reviews

[writing mojo]

anecdotal, talented piece the part about the trees being called gods..wow what an image to ponder on. great read!