Looking at them, I see a shroud
over their minds, in their psyches
around their lives, immutable
perfectly formed: a custom niche
tailored, fitted, so warm and safe

Who can point out the fallacy?
They tiptoe through their careful lives
Arriving safely at their deaths
with trusting smiles, like worker ants…
then they are gone, and all for what?

Ephemeral, their lives snuffed out
by dint of time; in slavery
they cannot see – and then at last,
when death arrives, do they suspect
although too late, what could have been?

Society: an evil hive
to sacrifice its very flesh
and serve itself; those human cells
their trusting minds, smiling faces
gazing upward, awaiting death.

Weep for yourself and not for them.
Their apathy, their faith and hope
become your death – for in their trust
of shining lies they abrogate
all sense of self – their doom is yours.

Can you see it? Understand it?
How angry does it make you feel?
Your immortality destroyed
by faith and hope and baseless trust,
pernicious methods of control.

The perpetrators dead and gone
their motivation lost to time
but blindly followed nonetheless
from hopeless birth in screaming pain
to futile death and nothingness.

Dan Sutton – 8/2/2010

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