Notes About The Poem
An instigator is a silent architect of chaos, someone who derives a perverse sense of power by manipulation, without ownership of the blame.
The Architect of Discord
The spark of trouble finds its home,
In hearts that like to stir and roam.
An instigator, quiet, still,
Is master of a hidden will.
They do not throw the first granite stone,
But leave the seed for us to own;
They craft a tale, they plant a doubt,
Then turn to watch it play all out.
They hunger for a sense of might,
To control the turning of the light.
Perhaps a boredom, cold and deep,
A harvest that they love to reap.
To see the chaos start to bloom,
And feel the weight within the room,
While they stand back, untouched, serene,
The monster inside the whole machine.
They weave a thread of "truth" so thin,
It draws the unsuspecting in.
A whispered word, a knowing look,
A page torn from a private book.
"I thought you knew," they softly say,
To nudge the pieces into play.
They hold their hands above the fray,
While others tear the peace away.
They never own the fire they light,
They only fuel the darkest night.
But to kill the flame and end the game,
You must refuse to speak their name.
Bring what they hide into the sun,
Demand the source; ask for the one
Who spoke the lie—demand the proof,
And watch them crumble ‘neath the roof.
Stand firm and cold, a quiet wall;
Do not let rumors rise or fall.
If they approach with tales of spite,
Just turn away and end the night.
When they are starved of all the feed,
They lose the power that they need;
Refuse the bait, the hook, the line,
And watch their foolish influence decline.
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