Molding God into Our Image


The Seeker's Dungeon

Peace

Was it ever more than
an idealist’s dream?
– Molded from that which
could never be,
a world built on
the balance beam
of give and take,
rise and fall,
leaders blessed
who hear the call
– we’re all the martyrs
of a sinister need
to be victorious.

Peace

Politics and religion,
like a gun
with ammunition,
like the surgeon’s knife
and the assassin’s blade
– God molded into man’s lust
before the shot is fired
with a robust call
for all to see,
reveling in hypocrisy.

Peace

The ego betrayed
by the rosary’s rotation,
taking the mind
and changing its formation,
from an endless cycle
of selfish greed
– my family,
my people,
my nation,
– our loss.

Peace

A state of mind,
so refined
and so sublime
that words could never
conceptualize
that fighting could never
actualize
that seeking to die for
is like an endless race,

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