Oh, but for sure if some god divine
Sits high on his throne and lords over us
Who are, but in simple, truth lesser beings
And the common foe of our very selves
But also of our noble kin came the great heroes
Some long forgotten in the wastelands of time,
But great men still fight as soldiers
Fighting evil for the sake of a deceased good
Long left behind,
And all in the name of all that is holy
Ask not of the ways that we as a people seek to torment ourselves
For we are at our most perfect when judging the afflictions of others
For who should not look upon another and not see some image of another fate
One perhaps unkind or more caring upon our dear person
Have we not still got that last, desperate hope,
Eternal in that we continue, day after day, to strive to leave our earthly prisons
And find that the finality is better, so that we may at last take our place
Surrounded by the heroes of old with a stout heart and solid mind
Men who have laboured for their success and have earned the honour of their names
Filling history with their tales
In such secrets that we keep many of those good deeds lie forgotten
Truths lost because of the mind's folly
Take it to heart if one person seeks to hold you're hand
For perhaps it has come at last that fortune shall dote upon us
Have the darkened years we have spent searching the earth
Really left us so wanting, despite edging ever closer to the abyss
The fear that governs us, has it changed us and shaped us so much?
Just as the very breath of air and sea shape the very earth we stand upon
Are we so naive that we fall for the tempting seduction of darkness?
Leading us further and further, nearer and closer and so much further from our beliefs
So that we search not for a good life but for the heavenly nature divine
So insatiated with life are we, yet shy away
From those tedious solved puzzles that continue to damage us
Ask not then the name of this mysterious, anonymous creator that put his very soul into his work
For it is his very essence that drives the world
But he has fallen to his own machine, mechanical men that plunder the same sins as they have always done
And you cannot help them all
And so trapped by our very human nature
And guided by the ethereal light he has now become at one with his art
So that he may not now be separated
Lost to his human addiction
And finding only the cold hearts in warm skin
So that only those who he chooses to be at one with
In nature, in spirit and love, may at last seek not the deceiving peace of night
But the bliss of a newborn day when they shall rise
So should we now start our campaign?
A desperate attempt to conquer the darkness that prevails over human nature
But oh we are so lowly and inferior to those that shine in the sky
And the deceptive and destructive lies have already taken root
But not the heart
Perhaps now there may be more heroes
**i really wasn't surewhere to put this. To me, it is about more than just faith and religion. I have never written a poem the like of this. I hope i have written the style well and used it sufficiently to convey my thought**
