The Forge

A flash of light,
piece of clay,
Warping, twisting,
In the light of old forges,
History written,
Ever evolving.

Death and demise,
And hate,
Victims of imperfection.
Fulfilment beckoned,
One mind,
Body and soul
Humanity, joining to unite under
one singular conscious

But
The string is unravelling
Loosening its shackles
Liberating the sense of self.

Humanity’s bane and blessing
lies with its uniqueness

In the end
It does not matter
What we do
What the consequences are
For our life is tiny
Nature will roll on
With or without us.

We are one small tale.
And someday it will end.

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It’s Dread Children

There were but seven in all
Children of the shapeless, forgotten form.

The Life Taker, life eater
the Wanderer, scorned of heart
They dance together in its living dark.

The Lady of Luck tosses her spinning coin.
the Beast, bearing maw
Fools to this dark war.

The Soldier, bears scars
The Doctor, dreams perfection

The Prisoner, owed deliverance.

But
All are destined to fall,
By my gracious sword.

~Solomon

Forgotten

We served a cause,
That we hoped would bring peace.

We waged their war,
And watched the suffering, and, thousands dying forever more,

Falling in their Thousands,
Men, women, and children,
Innocents caught in the sight,
Of the machine gun barrel.

As our blood,
And theirs spilled,
On ancient sands.

They fled West,
Seeking refuge from the oncoming storm.

We came to an already war torn land
And left it red with the dead.

As for me,
I returned home,
No welcome, no help,
Left to linger on empty streets,
Forgotten.
A starved victim of their war,
Cast aside,
And damned to die,
Forgotten ever more.

Maxwell

I feel nothing.
No God can forgive my sins.
No Devil can appease my hunger.

The games I play,
The lives I sacrifice,
All but pebbles.

In the grandest of seas,
They meet gracious ends,
Discover new beginnings.

It’s in here,
In the dark recesses,
Of the human mind,
We breed your wildest of desires,
And darkest of fears.

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The world folds,
Our reality torn asunder,
Rebuilt in mind of the total.

Freedom,
Absolved,
Our every movement,
Scrutinised, Analysed and Catalogued,
Our future paved through toil.

Our blood,
Returns to the earth,
The core of self,
Reconstructed.

One body born of ea mind lost to time.
War is waged with the instruments
Of
Total
Unequivocal
Control.

They pretend to stand as our equal,
To delude us with the concept of freedom,
What is language when it distorts the truth,
What is lies when passed as history,
What is to be our fate,
When the barrel is already pressed
Against our cold dead head?

They control us,
They own us,
What is humanity,
And what will it become.

Are we destined to be their,
Machine?