We ask you to help save humanity
You say ‘am I their creator’?
Please teach the young chap struggling
You say ‘am I his mentor’?
Stand up for the little orphan girl
You say ‘am I her father’?
Then what good can you do?
The world calls out your name in your dreams
But stubbornly you shut out all sounds
You preach faith in the name of fear
And leave your sheep scattered before the roaring Rottweiler
If you hate Christ’s sermon, why not walk before mammon?
Even the wind doesn’t blow us against our will
At least it can’t from your easy rest distort your dreams
You claim the all holy and high
Yet your words and thoughts are arts of fate
You resist the risky highway
For the fear of the smart ass robbers
But aren’t you your own thief?
Stealing scrupulously your every chance to rise
You sit in that sunken sofa waiting for death
As if death itself is a lifeless hopeless beast
Pathetic was the day you signed in for this phase
Disastrous was the night that kept you till dawn
Yes, you’re no doctor but have you no healing powers?
Yes, you’re not Gates or Dangote or Mother Teresa
But who says you can’t be you in your own skin?
You mock the sun for scorching
But has it not dried your filthy suits?
You scoff at the moon for intruding on your dark deeds
But has it not kept your wizards in their homes?
Your endless song is ‘death is every man’s wealth’
And for it you surrender your hopes and dreams, even your breath
Sad….sad…who will cry for you?
If you raise your glass for nothing, then you’re a withered tree?
But I cry for you, since the only story true to you is the one you tell yourself
None of your kin or kings can ever tell a better tale
In this art, I tell the world your tale
And you shall be first to call it false
But they won’t do that after meeting you
Your story will make them bawl bitterly
They’ll crack their voices trying to tell you a truth you’ll never believe
All your eyes behold are what rotten scientists invented
You have no vision for building your own Rome
Your only aspirations are broken bottles
Cracked shells of faithless beliefs
You vow never to raise yourself beyond your mediocrity
Yet you won’t strengthen others in their weaknesses
I fear not your fear or your finished fate
I mourn your faith, for it is your death sentence.



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