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I've become so onliest
secluded, absconding the rest
parting all that's left
All is gone; trust,
lust; for life,
All's visible;
if all's a knife
It's all just risible
it's become a trife
The end must be nigh
If what's being said is true
utter your final goodbye's
coerce what you thought you knew
Even if it's esoteric lies
Sit back; watch society crumble;
it's a lot like watching flies
We all walk and fumble
subsisting in our daily lives
And up there, he enconses,
He sits, entirem,
like our ephemeral journey
until we're simply hacked out
like a ball of macabre phlegm
But this, this just..
concords, with man-made maxim
decrepit maxim, belied with time
And there it evanesces,
our most famous hymn
Human's most enslaving whim
But now, the light's become dim
Some undertake a shim
But in the darkness
There will be no light
Nothing to miss
No place for flight
No time left to reminisce
No time, no capacity left, to exist
No more numen
Nothing left for men
Lacking acumen
Fleeting to the den
No purgatory
no nirvana
No authority
No perminence
No subsistence
The inamorata; an aught oblivion
Fabricated doxy prevaricates
There's no divinity!
Nobody who sits and waits
Nobody to revere,
who transcends the worthy,
and descends the paltry!
We are but microcosm in the grand macrocosm
we have, we know, we are; but nothing.
- Title: The Oversight of Benevolence
- Artist: Bashand
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Description:
Really disorganized, while writing I kept changing pace and premise, originally it was to be a personal poem, then it sort of morphed itself into a rant about society.
Please judge as harshly as possible, prissy judges get artists nowhere in life! - Date: 04/10/2011
- Tags: oversight benevolence
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Comments (2 Comments)
- Bashand - 04/19/2011
- Thank you so much. :]
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- maxi2092 - 04/18/2011
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really good but your correct to say rant it brings emotion out so it is a good poem
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