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the book of choice

which man has saved us from a dystopian future;

where each one of us must decide between good

and evil without fear of punishment from the camera

lens or laws that have become as onerous upon our

lives as a world without any law at all; which man

would be genius enough to survive his own evil

 

no matter the height of our intellectual achievements,

it is the emotional strain of one life in one world that

cannot care no matter how much we pray beyond

gravity’s last remaining outposts that lays waste to

souls that beg to be equal among beings made in an

image that has not been defined but merely assumed

 

when tears are no longer welcome as before and

when anger serves the strong well, then will the

light know to assume it’s place in the darkness which

hides from the absence of the knowing, undefined

by Gods or beasts that live in the depths choking

on sinks of man’s glorious quest for immortality

 

if one man knows of the legend if not each jot of

the law then would the spirit hover above his heart;

must he decide between living as a depraved knave

or martyred by unrecorded history, unfathomed

by meaning or the depths that have no end except

his will to suffer for what he once knew to be true?

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
mark-lecuona
American
Published
Aug 8, 2015
Lines·Words
24·227
Tags
#morality#dystopian
Permission

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