Caricamento in corso...

"Truth is the first casualty of war"

Within the dead of those we choose to mourn
lies a truth forever gone.
Within the dead of those we choose to forget,
choose to hate,
or never cared enough to know
lies the same truth.
The dead carry our secrets,
our fears,
they hide the extremes
of our sullied human nature.
The dead provide the muted bodies
for which we can write
the whitewashed tales of our time,
so that we may do it all over again–
the cycles of nature,
the cycles of generations,
the cycles of violence.
The need for purpose in life,
entrenched within all of us,
exploited by authority–
understanding the manipulation and coercion
of that purpose for life.
Some would nurture that environment,
allowing such desecration of purpose
to be perpetuated from generation to generation.
And the dead keep falling
and the tales stay the same
even though the truth is always shifting.
But the dead are sacred,
they are hallowed grounds,
they are a shield against skepticism,
doubt.
We truly are afraid of ghosts
if we cannot confront the truth they carry.

(2014)

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