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.
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