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  • Writer's pictureGarathe Den

Giants

I walk these streets

Surrounded by Goliaths

Flaunting and taunting

All haunted with violence

What is my purpose

When I refuse to compliance

I won't be a slave

To the grave or the tyrant


I walk these streets

Shadows cast in superstition

Got a lamp to light my feet

From the footfalls of religion

I may be less discrete

As I repeat this one decision

But I will not conform to man

And his era of division


Every system and institution

Houses seeds of corruption

Congregations knowing nothing

Except the praise of destruction

And I have come to the crossroads

And now must choose my next junction

Do I remain within the system

Or do I seek its disruption


I seek its destruction

No part left to survival

No person regarded

In praise, but reviled

For the systems have wronged us

Always keep us on trial

Caught in fear and perdition

But I am ending this cycle


Forgive my lack of condolence

For my coming offenses

You cult of servitude

Absently void of all senses

No heart no compassion

Caught in a State of defenses

So closed off to the world

And blind through your lenses


Factions parading

Through these streets in protest

Religions in battle

To try to prove who knows best

More segregation

More forms of duress

Coercion and violence

And fraud and theft


Passing these giants

All huddled together

Gangs of belief

That believe they're a treasure

With nothing to offer

And nothing to measure

Except grunts and complaints

And the absence of pleasure


I've no regret

Stepping out on these streets

Outside of the boxes

Outside of deceits

While glances grotesque

Condemn and critique

And cringe at a man

Who just wants to have peace


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