all eyes fixed to a permanent setting, a brilliant blinding display,
the onset of progress, a human betrayal,
the world that we left in our wake.
find religion, it’s every succession, in dead congregation, *ssume the position.
and a prayer for the many and shiftless who cower in corners and make it all possible.
there is a faith so inviting, it turns one away,
a reason to feed upon others, a judgment that maims.
but ours is a path, straight and thin, traveled by few,
led by the flame, lit within, heavy as stone, as boulders,
content to stand, stand on our own, as oceans, a steady m*ss,
ours is a dream, ours is united, by every (wo)man,
sure as an orbit we forward together without relent, no end.
all eyes fixed to a permanent setting, fixed like a drug to the blood,
a permanent course to the end of existence, setting on us like the sun,
and the world is a stage for the opulent,
a private performance, the rest of us audience,
and a cheer for the many and shiftless who sit in the darkness and make it all possible,
there is an empty *ssurance, a wealth that exceeds,
so many dead in direction, to sighted to see,
but ours is a path…. sure as an orbit we’re subject to nothing but this.