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  • Writer's pictureGarathe Den


I don't walk in the footsteps

Of the crowd with all answers

Cults blinded in servitude

To the deceit of their masters

No parading with rainbows

No protesting/professing commandments

No path worn down

By misled propagandists

No religious turmoil

No moral denoting

No system engraved

Indoctrinated and gloating

No institution esteemed

Not one thought provoking

All roads lead another

To a war that's foreboding

Contentions are flaring

The consensus a menace

An ego of thought

Raising tyrants to lead us

Pleading my case

I say run from the premise

Watch the wolves starve to death

As I offer no penance

Prowling these paths

Of the minds all enraptured

Thoughts beacon lies

Can't realize their own capture

Smooth is the trail

Dead is the pasture

A flock ripped apart

All but well manufactured


Yet all held single file

To salute the old flags

And recite their reprisal

The allegiance that's sworn

Tightly knit in denial

Where symbols hold value

Over life/love and survival

It is an age-old act

The deceit of religion

Where innocence is cast

To the embrace of division

All direction misleading

Preceding collision

Contention is risen

Blinding eyes from their vision

Walking in the dark

With no light for their way

Bound to get lost

All profoundly displayed

Ghastly and grim

In a state of decay

As life silently ceases

Through submission and praise

These dwindling days

All sacrificed to the altars

Of the religions of man

For the sake of power

What a waste of all life

What a way the world falters

To just follow the path

That leads them right to the slaughter

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