“…and no religion too…”
Was it easy to do?
Did it make you angry
Or did you agree?
Is God already dead?
Do you believe what Nietzsche said?
But then who killed him?
Was it us or them?
With their rejection
Or your revelation?
We live with man’s insistence
Of defining God’s existence
Creating us in his image
With a holy marriage
Of our disobedient soul
To an ancient scroll
Or does science
Define our conscience
As pure logic
With all else pathologic?
How can we believe
The zealots who cleave
To intellectual scorn
Or under whose God they were born?

“… and there is no country…”
From the pages of history
War and conquest
From time earliest
Past the age of reason
Marching each season
With imperialistic fury
And dominating hegemony
The meek unable to rule
Believing like any fool
The words of the deceased
Strewn from Eden to the East
Giving hope to the hopeless
Who have no access
To the dreams of the chosen
But instead remain frozen
In time to be glorified
By mere words that personified
Our need to care
In impotent prayer

Can you separate your senses
From those whose defenses
Are erected so high
That you cannot tell truth from a lie?
Can you dream of a world
Where a bohemian’s word
Stripped of accompaniment
And all earthly judgment
Has stood the test of time
Even when accused of the crime
Of a treasonous plea
For peace and all to see
The cruelty and horror
That power and desire
Have brought to our garden
Where the meek receive no pardon
Because they dared to beg
For a mere pittance to mask
Their pain and suffering
As they lived with the knowing
That a song about dreamers
Can never overcome the schemers
Who laughed at his naivety
And forced upon you their deity



All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2011. Mark Lecuona.