How The Righteous Will Drain The Oceans
by Notty Bumbo, 2015
I could stand at the top of the hill
For the right to receive an answer,
For questions I have yet to raise,
The clouds moving in, their anger
A palpable form of revenge.
I would have to beg forgiveness,
To rinse off the scum of politics,
To recognize the despicable exercise of deception
We are subject to even in our sleep.
Where would it end, these lies,
These solicitations of demons,
Only seeking their own inflation?
What I give goes to the pockets of greed,
What I withhold bears no resemblance to righteousness.
Drifting with the tide brings us nowhere,
Except into another illusion.
I cannot stand idly by,
Bringing with me the water of truth,
Where, if the winds are right,
Will cast us all adrift
In the black and compromised future.
I stand on this precipice,
I sit inside endless grief,
I lay upon the burning shores,
And receive no respite
From the demands of the hate-filled millions.
You will stand in this same failed place,
Will wonder why you answered the phone.
There will be no solution to this nightmare.
There will be no sleep for the willing,
No dreams for the dead.
Every promise they make you will believe.
Every day you will pray forgiveness.