Tuesday 23 August 2011

Re-Legion


He tries so hard
But he just can’t hide
From the thousand evils that haunt him
Everyone seems to know how… but he can’t figure it out
He never meant to do it…never meant to create the monster they see…
Thought he could contain it…keep it in the dark corner of his mind
But now it’s pushing him of the edge
He sits on the last pew...afraid to infect the rest
And as the sermon proceeds…all he feels is resentment
Maybe someone should just tell him he isn’t wanted here…
It’s in the noises …In the silence of their screams
He cries but they don’t see past the silence of his mime
So he smiles like a clown …a prisoner of his own humor
And he wants to let go, but he has nothing else to hold on to
They want him to be himself…well too bad for him
Coz this is all he knows…
He walks alone in a crowded street
He hears nothing but the chains he drags along
He sits by the graves seeking a remedy…an escape from the thousand voices that chatter in his mind
Here he finds solitude…acceptance among the skulls
Maybe this is where he belongs…with the dead and cold
But still his mind won’t rest
If only they never left him to fight alone
Who he is hates what they have made him become
A dead man controlled by a thousand voices 
If only they knew...that the blood once shed for them
Also sips into his cold heart
Maybe then the thousand voices would depart
And rid him of the torment.


LOST PEOPLE

Everyday I encounter a lost people...
People who beat at their bodies in daylight then feed it on fast foods in the dark of their closets!!
People who carry a cross on their backs in the city streets and shopping malls but are still nailed to the cross,
 Wanting smone to bring them down from their watchtower of pain!!
I see people in a city on hill...a city whose walls are well lit for the people dead in the valley below to see!
Yet these people in the city have no lights on the city streets they walk!

I see people who believe in a superhuman being...
One who was thrown in a tomb and though he was held in by a great boulder...
This hero found his way out and not just out of the crypt but out of the abyss!!!
But everyday I’m forced to believe that these people were the thorns in the crown of their hero,
The nails that held him to the tree,
The whip that tore his back into shreds
And still I believe....
They were that boulder that tried to hold him inside that cave damp with the stench of death
Yet they could see he was so full of life!!!

And still every day I watch kids play with action figures of this great hero...
He has been turned to a crucifix round their necks...
Unaware of the yoke their action-figure-hero had to bear
I can’t call him superman coz he aint just a man...
But the kids know he is cool coz he walks on water n makes the wise guys look daft!!
Everyday I see these people and when I raise my fist to hurl insult at this lost lot of wolves in sheep skins...
I can’t help but notice the 6 by 6 inch nails that rust hanging from my wrists!!
I to, am among this herd of ungrateful sheep in black fleece...
The herd that sold its shepherd!