Not Dead, Just Dormant Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

I'm not dead, just dormant.
The silence converges.
As if my head was held within the gallows.
This man deserves the cruelest torture thus far known.
But still I sit upon this self invented tin can I claim as my own.
A home in which I will be grilled.
Deprived of all the human comforts and necessities.
Those bread into filth will die upon the same filth.
An indignity in the clause of fairness.
The discrimination against equal liberties.
They are here to defend the peace it is said.
But defending against what I just don't know.
No Interruption has occurred in anyone daily life.
No matter how unorthodox the routine.
If words can break so many.
Then it's time to look at the way it was made.
A failing of architect and design.
The classes being setup to wage war upon themselves.
It as I see it and many around me do the same.
We want to be angry.
We want to blame.
We want to fight.
But the cost of the love ones lost would be too much to bare.
These are our people I keep hearing.
Their not the enemy.
And this is the creation of the evil within.
The protection from ourselves.
We apparently don't always know best.
And this is most certainly true even as the words from my own mouth are sometimes hard to digest.
But to force one into jail to save something that has already failed.
Indeed it is like riding across the sea in boat which has already been punctured.
Sir we have to keep it a float.
Just continue to bail.
And the water continues to rise one eventually has to face the reality that the ship is going to sink.
As one would say we're just prolonging the inevitable.
And when the boat does sink, will make a difference whether your on it or not?
For either way you still have to swim for shore and hope you make it.
Or at least come close to the cast away dream.
A maybe next time this boat we build will be able to endure even the hardest of rocks.
A lesson can be gained from past mistakes.
No matter the way of the intention.
Enslaved by the corruption of the minds.
Easily swayed for the easily life.
Take it away and nothing will be quite as nice.
But that painting can only ever satisfy one.
Their will never be enough to go completely around.
Their will be those who will have to suffer for our ignorance.
It is just a fact of life.