I am sightless
In a sea of light
Blinded by my own insanity
I can no longer see through the madness ❤️
And for that I am glad.
A blind man
can s e.e
lead them to believe
in a charlatan
like moles they were
to the false god
they were following
he who had nothing
of the Messiah's
never did it dawn
that he was selling
a religion based
none of his disciples
being overly astute
and still they're listening
and still they're standing
with his stead
and still they can't eye
the paucity of street cred
Not near-sighted; not far-sighted
Just blinded by stupidity
By rich inhumanity
Lack of love in society
Absence of insight; omission of outsight
Just censored curiosity
Loss of credibility
Futures foresighted; actions unsighted
The past, no punctuality
Death by immortality
Buried from reality
There has been some contradiction and confusion on whether or not 'outsight' is actually a word. Through common knowledge and basic spellcheck, 'outsight' is not a word. But 'Dictionary.com' says that it is truly part of the English vocabulary. So believe what you want to believe.
It was winding streets that led her to where she is now, but I'd always thought that those were the best kind.
"It was like moving around in circles but making progress while at it - just not enough";
that's how she'd liked to describe her life, unaware of the tens and thousands of steps she made every single day starting from her doorstep and ending right there where it began.
Sometimes I thought her shoes did the walking for her since they'd grown used to their path but they too eventually grew tired and gave up.
Unlike her shoes, she didn't have the luxury of
just giving up.
So many things had been taken from her that 'giving' up whatever it is you give to whomever takes it, she probably didn't have anymore.
She had considered it before, so many times but...
Her steps started changing: moving backwards.
Too many things had been thrown against her bedroom walls that the cracks were starting to show.
The few tears of bravery she shed couldn't re-plaster the evidence of
in that room.
How many years she'd lived -
hoping things would get better; hoping he would get better
until she realised it was only another winding road.
Perhaps going back to the beginning - this time instead of sanctification by birth, why not by death?
An eye for an eye, blind as it may be.
Blind as he may be, he now knows the unwinded way to church.
Take me to church!
It was written on the wall
It was plain to see,
The things that were said
Where not looked upon,
But not seen by all,
It was plain to see, before the eyes
But we were
On what we needed to observe, but couldn't
The writing is there, so preserve it
Or all that will be left is what was written
But we never looked upon, what was always there.
— The End —