Heretic Poem by Nathaniel Graves

Hellbent
On Heaven,
And the wondrous joys
Of seeing teeth-chattering lies,
In the form of a propagandistic
Suicide for the blind ages;
For the young pages,
Upon pages
Of historical chronology;
Man by man,
Word by word,
Trust by trust...
In which none exist.
So why hath we condemned one another,
To a mere feud between
Righteous opinions,
And fanciful condescensions;
Dreams, per se...
Were we gifted
With the mockery tone?
Or does acceptance
With oneself
Appear pragmatic..?
I'm afraid I am without an answer,
For you, anyway...

-3/12/2010-