Hubris

We, the scab on the lips of the lord

Do protest to his daily cancer

No more creation if it means rape and hatred

For we all wanna fly

But who will supply the wax?

Who will supply nephilim plumage?

It cannot be the verdant men

For their avarice knows no bounds and only chains

It cannot be the penitent ones

For their grace knows no reciprocate

But most of all it cannot be those made of clay

For their hierarchy has poisoned all in the womb

 

Who will give us this day or daily bread

When this black horizon is anchored to our floor?

None

No house is great if they cannot leave their door unlocked

No man is big if they carry a rifle or glock

Not compared to the infinite

The black sea is one of peril

But surely we shouldn’t need to traverse

Not when a marble lies melting but un-cracked

 

But lo, come apart and undone at the news

Those behind the pulpit of green only rise and rise and rise

Their redundancy, a spectacle to the masses and tabloids

Like battery acid smoked straight to the dome

And chemicals that will run through your bodies and to your child

In the future where they will be like handbags for the strips

 

This is the joy from an hour-long story

The joy of escape into nebulas unknown

The joy of one of the world’s greatest fallacies

The joy of hubris

 

- Adam Ou

Done