Under the strain of guilt and fear
Conscience fights for her last breath.
Wave after wave of violent thoughts
Come crashing against the rocks of reason.
Rocks that once proved to be a barrier and a fortress,
Now being pounded by the force of argument and rationale.
Now the castle of sanity which houses conscience
Is being eroded by the weeds of condemnation.
Weeds brought in by the waves;
Waves from distant shores,
From lands far off, and ages long past.
Lands of tyranny and might;
Lands protected by the strength of time;
Lands fuelled by rationality and justification.
When condemnation works its perfect work
The army of terror bearing weapons of depression
Enter through the cracks of double mindedness.
Take no prisoners.
Leave no remnant.
Destroy the caretaker; that woman of old;
The woman named Conscience.
Defile her! Rape her! Suffocate her!
Instil new inhabitants in the land.
Inhabitants named panic and consternation,
Trepidation and dismay,
Dread and horror.
Come eat! Come eat!
All the birds of the land, come eat your fill!
Feast on the barrenness of the land;
Barrenness which thrives on the fuels of experience.
A city on a hill.
A city to rival the Great City.
A beacon for sailors at sea.
Come all you sailors to this city and eat;
Eat the fruits of sterility
Which grow on the soil of experience.
Come see the birds of the land.
Birds of many shapes and sizes;
Birds of many colors,
Birds without number.
Come taste and see.
Take back to your land the produce of this city,
Take back with you these fruitful birds of infertility.
Never forget the beauty of this city.
And in times to come,
With waves released,
This city will be to other cities a distant land
From whence weeds arrive
To form openings in fortresses impregnable.
Copyright © Peter Cobbler | Year Posted 2017
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