Reckonings  

intierzha 43M
311 posts
4/17/2006 8:13 pm

Last Read:
1/15/2007 12:07 pm

Reckonings


As someone who has observed too much of the human condition through history and through travel and experience, I have sensed our species is heading toward a reckoning of a sort. The longer we continue in our cycles of death and mayhem, who will be left? How can one revenge if we are all gone? It's almost as if we've moved toward a zero sum game and someone forgot to carry the one, lol. (ok, higher math is not my strong suit, so I can only joke). What is not a joke is our insane obsession with vengeance and destruction. Even our more enlightened futures still fall prey to the unenlightened ideals of this century. (yes, that was a backhanded reference to Star Trek In any event, what this boils down to is the line between justice and revenge and how often it is crossed. The following are three poems related to this subject, short in comparison to some of the others I have written, but long, I feel, on their impact.

'One'

One.
Is that enough?
It should be.
Ten.
Do you require another?
One Hundred.
Perhaps a little more blood?
One Thousand.
Shall I start digging the graves?
Ten Thousand.
What must the price be?
One hundred thousand.
Will there be a reckoning?
One million.
Should we stop now?
Ten million.
When shall we reach an end?
One hundred million.
Can you still count the graves?
One billion... more.
Is that enough?
It has to be.
We are all in our graves.

'Ruin'

One more death...
A sacrifice on the altars of hate.
More blood upon the hands of the world,
Another death will be enough.

What is one more death...
To avenge the honor of nations
To quell the cries of anguished souls?
A life is extinguished,
Is their death enough?

Trapped in a circle of death...
Altars stained by the sacrifice of blood.
A world cannot suffer so many tears.
Eventually,
One more death will be enough.

Our world is a ruin...
Led by those who believe a death will be enough.

'Zero Sum'

They wait for justice's balancing scale.
Expectant yet patient,
Perhaps even confidently assured...
Though the answer would make one wonder.

Scars run deep upon a troubled world.
Bitter and prideful,
Certain in their judgment...
Hearing only cries which burden their shame.

We pay service to advice unheeded.
Polite but arrogant,
Set in ancient ways...
Moving toward our righteous end.

A troubled world tires of such strife.
Though expectant and patient,
Most certainly and confidently assured,
The answer... makes perfect sense
To those who balance the scales.

C.

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