Detritus

Our history was written by the victors Of holy wars from long ago; The sacred texts, the monuments, the scriptures The paths that lead us, tied upon the hand. "Lift up your eyes, rejoice" they say "Salvation is at hand!" Deliverance is near enough Just not when you had planned. A blinding light that hides the scars and Sublimates the whispers may Give comfort to the weary. Myopia is, at it’s best, A way to see more clearly. To heal the wounds and make our peace With things we can’t control. But truth is not a catchphrase And the myths will take their toll.