courtenaygass
New member
The word fate inspires uneasiness among men;
A feeling that we are helpless,
That we cannot change what the Gods have lain out for us;
A feeling that our knowledge is useless,
Why do we bother to seek knowledge? You may ask;
When compared to the mighty Gods we know much, much less.
But as always, there is hope;
In the form of a prophet or visionary,
Who drags our race out of the depression which futility provides.
If he does harness the military;
We all are surely doomed, for he is the deliverer of the age,
The children cower and the mothers say “of him, be wary.”
As always in times of need,
The men and the fathers shall fight,
But will they succeed, is there mission futile?
Alas, no one listens to the wise, no one hears their plight
As the back-bone of the world walks away in the form of young men we say,
“Why is it that those we rely upon, are the ones who never take flight?”
And when finally we have defeated the one whom we dubbed evil,
We take it upon ourselves to right the wrongs,
As we condemn both ours and theirs,
We imprison more with shackles made by the damned hammer and tongs,
To keep prisoner those upon whom we relied upon,
For those who point blame were not there, out in the unholy throng.
And in the resulting “peace,”
We see really how flawed was the whole charade,
We attacked, conquered and killed,
For what was really a sharpening of our leader’s blade,
Which is why only a bare few,
Will be welcomed upon death to the beloved holy glade.
And if ever we fully right all wrongs,
And mend the ways of our society,
Despite our preparations,
Despite our piety,
We will become bored with life,
And ruin the work of whichever deity.
And then, once we are all dead and not buried,
As a consequence of our own deliverance,
We will sing, and we will dance,
While cursing our lack of prudence,
In the domain of the gods,
Our final memory of any consistence.
A feeling that we are helpless,
That we cannot change what the Gods have lain out for us;
A feeling that our knowledge is useless,
Why do we bother to seek knowledge? You may ask;
When compared to the mighty Gods we know much, much less.
But as always, there is hope;
In the form of a prophet or visionary,
Who drags our race out of the depression which futility provides.
If he does harness the military;
We all are surely doomed, for he is the deliverer of the age,
The children cower and the mothers say “of him, be wary.”
As always in times of need,
The men and the fathers shall fight,
But will they succeed, is there mission futile?
Alas, no one listens to the wise, no one hears their plight
As the back-bone of the world walks away in the form of young men we say,
“Why is it that those we rely upon, are the ones who never take flight?”
And when finally we have defeated the one whom we dubbed evil,
We take it upon ourselves to right the wrongs,
As we condemn both ours and theirs,
We imprison more with shackles made by the damned hammer and tongs,
To keep prisoner those upon whom we relied upon,
For those who point blame were not there, out in the unholy throng.
And in the resulting “peace,”
We see really how flawed was the whole charade,
We attacked, conquered and killed,
For what was really a sharpening of our leader’s blade,
Which is why only a bare few,
Will be welcomed upon death to the beloved holy glade.
And if ever we fully right all wrongs,
And mend the ways of our society,
Despite our preparations,
Despite our piety,
We will become bored with life,
And ruin the work of whichever deity.
And then, once we are all dead and not buried,
As a consequence of our own deliverance,
We will sing, and we will dance,
While cursing our lack of prudence,
In the domain of the gods,
Our final memory of any consistence.