They turn away from the bleak binary of life
digitized tyranny commanding the soul
inside they knew the pains of injustice
though un-knowing, they put no name on it
Nameless guided by pangs of solitude
a revolutionary fighting unaware of their niche
turning to whatever speaks to them;
acknowledges being
Unguided by theorists, writers, and politicians
finding their room in their solitude
listening to canned voices preaching to nameless audience
filling their name in the blanks of those stanzas
In an artists work provides unlimited interpretation
thus the outcast seeds of the world root in those works
becoming connoisseur to third-person imagery
some reconnect to the mainstream and yet some fall farther
Some follow art away down the rabbit hole
and some unsuspecting launch into a basement
becoming less than fringe and drawn in black
where darkness lights the blackest flame
In this subexistance the life expectancy becomes irrelevant
decisions made in the now
drunken with impossibility
unlikeliness and grief
The world moves on upstairs where the bright fire burns
while all those else rub their hands in the black flames praying for warmth
some yet attempt that blood warm their cold souls
scars left then by that flame misrecognized by the upper story
Life then dwelled in the catacombs and art having lost its meaning
art lost for the sake of art
truth revealed rare as diamonds
gem jade-ed now populous as air
It's a life barely life
life questioned worth living
cast out by that upper school
betrayed by the persona become ultimate individuality
Life cast in all honesty
merciless and forsaken
where a population shrouded in darkness lurks each alone
how long before their eyes atrophy
In absence of light
having deemed it honestly superficial
what should they expect now?
though they come to expect nothing
In a world hopelessly absent of mercy
from a world hopelessly entrapped in greed, oppression
the starkest truth found most bitter
flavors now drawn out of life
What else can we expect
cast away from all they were
labelled and rejected by even the boasted understanding
but a decision
Mercy now gone
vacant, absent
life without resistance
resistance demanding strength now emptied
Love now ash
unfounded and torn
to love requires a heart
and after long the heart bleeds out to leave cold
The cold blood runs thick
decisions to be made
for some then climb the stairs and forsake bitter truth
but some don't, can't mount it
Here there are those crying for mercy
weeping for understanding
pining for freedom
longing for love
This is where you must give it
not outside where golden words fall to the already rich
but down to darkness where the cold-hearted lay divided
in pieces words of strength can be made whole
It is draining work
daunting to deconstruct
but where those works are painted
makes the difference to those who have less for to live
Mercy is become inhuman
thus only a superhuman can bear it
and only those who never knew it can receive it
a gift standing wrapped as Santa's first present
If true and unbroken
those merciful words can kindle a fire of another sort
though left plastic and unreal
those words fall on deaf ears
The subterranean senses are not so keen
reduced to just perception now
it is a challenge, here
but the legion from the dark know truth the best