Rounds of dust

It was him
Possibly it was her
The one in the uniform adorning stars
Or the one marching down the road with a mask on
Those clashing for the concept of right and wrong
Protecting their own so that they may leave the curtain on
As beyond the thin layer it is clear
That merely the other is the suspect and the guilty
Not I however, for I am not fitting
To be in the midst of this conflict
No, I am not of order nor chaos
And not inherently positive or negative
Bipolar merely because passion within runs strong
Leading to this current dichotomy
For there is no clarity within this profanity
Merely it seems, we are seeking for a target
So start a fire, and we will burn down those who saw it
Whoever it is, let they be the opposition
That will fill this void and rally our vindication
For of the conviction that this will satisfy
Our need to be worthy enough to live so that we may die
Indeed if we become the sentenced and judge
Then at least we have picked a side
Even if both halves seem to deny
The humanity within the others eyes
So then how can we reconcile with ourselves
If we in fact decide to hide
From the very fabric that ultimately connects
Both you and I
It seems mistaken, it seems latent
It seems blatant, oh how it is contagious
Especially in the later stages
The collective mind that dwells inside
Awaiting to be awoken by the concept of tribe
Those whom will do what it takes
To ensure that their own survive
While the faceless ones bleed, fade away and are sent to the sky
It is unnessecary, is it not
To view ourselves as larger than life
When we are merely a thought
One that has been replicated over and over
Simply in a different manner and marching under a new banner
And so it seems that conflict shall always coincide
Until we develop the courage nessecary to look in the others eyes
And see the spark of love, the power of life
That within them too, dwells inside
And so we must cast away our pride
We must cast away our identity
We must cast away the idea of less and plenty
We must make do with what we possess
So that we may understand that it was always more
Than enough for us to truly be satisfied
With the gift that lays outside, which can only be realized from our own core
For it will always shake and fall off the scale
Certainly to no avail
Yet upon the endless sea we may set sail
In order to see, at long last, that we are writing the plot of this tale
Others can be mentioned and explored
Or they can be exploited and denied
In the end, you must look yourself in the eye
And question whether or not, you even tried.

Categories creative writing, poetryTags , , ,

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