Glitter95

He didn’t heed the warnings, When he sought financial gain. He set fire to his temple, But could not control the blaze. He fled the scent of burning, Sought to make his claim. He made a pyre of the building, And the city he left to raze. He made a fortune from their fear, As they suffered for his sake. He built a shelter out of gold, Above the smoke and haze. He let the world fall to ruin, Scorched all the lowly ants. He said let the people burn, For their anguish is what pays. He’ll watch the skyline smoulder, And smile all his days.

They travelled across the ocean for a city of gold, Hidden, mythic that legend of old. They slayed, enslaved and they searched on for years, For a reward to their greed a reason for cheers. Misled by a notion from a story they heard, Never to realise the way that they’d erred. In a lake they found what they believed was a stash, Precious, shining and worth a nation of ash. Hours they laboured, draining and tainting the pool, Each of them unknowingly equal a fool. True they found gold in the landscape made rough, Yet for the hunger they held, never enough. When you search for a treasure worth an ocean of blood, All you’ll be left with is mud.

How is he reflected In the mirrors of their eyes? How is it that he’s painted With each stroke of the brush? He's written on their pages, Those scripts he cannot read. How can he know their answers When their side he cannot see? How is she depicted In the writings on the wall? How is she displayed On the stage that she stands? Her truth is in their sermons, Words never she inscribed. How can she know reality When from her view she is blind? How can they know, When the story always changes? How can they be sure When the lyrics never are the same? They walk about with certainty, Free of questions never asked How are they real If all is simulation?

Here I find myself, Grasping at diamonds beyond my reach, Stretching across a chasm, Struggling to reach past that abyss. Here I find myself, Standing in a graveyard of broken ladders, Gazing at distant jewels, Working to bridge the cavernous divide. Here I find myself, One of a million writhing weeds, Reaching for the light ahead, Always fighting to cross over. The canyon remains the same. And thus, here I find myself.