An Interrogative

 

     Grateful,

They say we should all be grateful

     For this life,

     But I’m asking you,

     Pleading with you to admit

The truth;

Would you want to carry

All memories of this World –

     Unto the next?

 

     Further,

Are you given authority

To vet which memories stay

And which are lost in your future

Conscience?

     Do you take the child

That dies of hunger to paradise

To be revisited over and over

Like a movie on repeat,

     For surely,

It would make no sense

To deny the carnage – to gain

A righteous stance of life on Earth!

 

     A witness,

An observer of the human condition,

An audience of the very director

In action – as babes are tortured

Would surely give grounds

For acceptance,

     Should surely guarantee

Your place by ‘his’ side,

(Or are your tears and pain –

     Your emotional outcry in vain;

          Merely serving a self to claim

               An elevated position within justice)?

 

     Who will you challenge on high?

A deity we relate blame to

Donning other forms of enlightenment,

A demon, a devil, Satan

Or God himself?

     Perhaps an Angel so blind

We rip our eyes to fill

Their sockets – so they can

See what we see

Within our apparel of unkindness!

 

2.

 

     The soldier asks of each

And every fantasist;

‘Was it gory enough for you?’

And the cameras roll on,

Watching your every expression

Of false cries and platitudes

Of a new found humanity,

     And you’re done unto this world

And no further will you go

But you’ll not surrender your soul,

     You’ll claim your spirit touched –

You’ll fame the tears you wept

That fall upon the red sodden ground,

 

          But,

     No difference will it make

As hate spreads,

For this new found humanity

Constantly evolves an insincere

Being who feeds from the macabre,

     And the gluttony,

The gluttony – the wish

To fill the void with visions

To justify your innocence betrays

The principle you say you are,

 

     As this is what we are taught to accept,

This is how we are bought

Regardless of redress,

The claim that we

Are sentient be nothing more

Than false, like the belief

That killing be justified-

For a fellow clans freedom,

     And I am asking for the truth in you,

Do you really think

Our make believe deity

Would want the slaughter

Here upon this Earth –

Become knowledge of the Universe?

 

     I have been asked,

I have been tasked to state the truth

In replying to the question;

‘Was it gory enough for you kind sir?’

     My reply for all to see

Be visible on each and every TV screen,

Be the reality that makes the coward

     Scream;

     ‘Not yet………not till every

Living lie congeals their blood,

Not till their hearts – cold as ice

Beat no more,

     and fall,

           to dust.’

 

Michael J Waite 12th September 2015.

 

Inspired and dedicated to fellow poet – David Moore