Charms present itself as attributes
in cloak and dagger, blood still dripping
with the last kill envious hate, insidious
beasts, burdened by the bronze culture
impervious to the shallow golden calf
shrouded in the sinister guise
of compassion.
Why do the radicals look
up to the sky praise god for approval
on own inequities
bolstered by the book of prophets
who did not see these acts
as sanctity or sacred.
The contradictions balance
between heaven and hell
even as the world turns to watch
the anguish of beliefs in agony.
Go now seek the desert of doom.
to announce meaningless mantras
for the wisdom of attention.
Burn in the terrible dawn of discovery.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem