Enemy
What actions do we deem,
That demand the veneration of the masses?
How do we elevate these truths or
Rather these saints of war?
On the tip of the spear of a young soldier do we lay our hopes,
Yet we wait till his death to propose a parapet of peace.
Remaining tantalized by our righteousness,
We send more of our future to ebb away.
Unwilling to listen to posthumous words.
Stop, cease, turn away, allow them and I to live.
Our land is anointed in our own blood,
A sea of gore fettered to the common man.
In this deep crimson pool is it made clear,
Those whom we hate are reflected back.
Should we push away now would be the admission,
The wrongness of our crusade,
So, we continue to senselessly,
Ceaselessly,
Send cadavers.
Usurper
I write, list to you, a curse.
May these lines reach you.
I pray that each word burns into your eyes,
Burrows into your oil-laden mind.
Pitch, stained like an evil, festering tar.
I return to you every word,
Every action, every emotion,
That you dared to impose to me,
My mother and my family.
Channeling every second,
Funneling it, seizing it away from you.
It was never yours to take.
Nor to break.
Damn you, you wretched man.
You persist still in my life,
Like a leech, taking, and taking,
Infecting those within your grasp.
Stealing innocent poor hearts
Steeling them against the family that loves them.
You will dismiss every word spoken,
You never sounded like the truth.
Narcissus would recoil at his sight were he you.
Blind to rot that you spewed,
Or perhaps more accurately,
Reigned.
Squatter, Harlot, Thief, Traitor,
Spy, Tyrant, Conspirator, Coward.
Every list I compose can never comprise of your true nature.
You are a starving beast,
Fat with others essence.
Tainted ether, consecrated evil.
I pray, I exorcise, I demand
That you deflate.
That you may be banished,
That I actually was wrong,
(Though no child could dream of your terror).
I will sprinkle your severed limbs across the nine layers of hells.
Aesop, Grimm, Homer, Dante,
Will utilize you as their villain,
A demon, titan, fey, of hate.
With this list do I seal,
Your soul’s fate.
Perfect and Complete
Within you lie an innumerable number of you,
Yet, we all look ever outward.
Focused the aspects of otherness,
In vain attempts to be accepted by another.
We remain bellicose to our psyche,
Why should you look inward when the flesh around you is much more tender?
The woods of the mind remain deep,
And foggy daring one to get lost within its canopy.
If you were to really search inside of you,
Would the current you come back?
Or perhaps some doppelganger proclaiming they found perfection.
In being whisked away you would surely grow,
A more volatile shard of the ego,
Until one dares to search again for themselves.
So, it would become a great cycle of kindred,
Spirits and minds eternally searching and hunting.
Insatiable wanderlust would drive each you forth,
And back into your fathomless mind.
Yet, each and every one of you would proclaim,
“Fear not my friends,
For I have found myself.
I am complete and without fault,
A complete compilation of strength and weakness,
A paragon of virtue on sin,
Learn from me as I learn from myself,
Realize that we may complete ourselves.”
None of us would dare refute you,
As we would gaze upon your form with awe and contempt.
Mad that in our frenzy of obsessing over the other,
That we had chosen the wrong one to mimic.
You would laugh,
Scolding the naive children before you,
“Why should you be me?
And why should I trade an eye for an eye?
I had what I wanted before I even began the search,
I can’t contain the vessel of your completion.
I can only offer to you the path that I found,
Look inward, subsume yourself,
Get lost in the vastness that comprises you,
Once your feet begin to bleed,
Twice when you begin to drown in the vitae,
And once again when you realize you are travelling back out,
You will find it;
That truth, that you lack nothing.”