The Monster Without Purpose

A mountain of grounded rock reaching to the skies A rabbit burying into a whole A pig building a house of straw Why, concrete little pig, brick and sweat A tree, untrimmed and ungainly Buzzing insects, foaming with diseases and the chance of death A mound of sand A sand castle A poor sign of engineering Yet fit for a queen Build straight pathways, not curving halls little ant Your purpose is there, it s your efficiency that is in question Take note from the concrete, the velvet and the vibrating The ironman working the ironworks in the ironmine Purpose, purpose, purpose He earns her iron dollar They raise their iron children Time rusts their flawed iron hearts The silver tongued king rules his copper minded people The golden patience of time rules the silver tongued king The velvet soft lover wrestles with the friction of passion The ninety nine year old Nazi is killed for his crimes The copper minded populace cheers Some shed fake diamond tears And we spin our web of lies Our empire of cobwebs, time formed truths Threatened by the subtle breeze of our patient host True diamond patience of Earth So the philosopher asks Riddles with himself Earth hast no purpose but to be And to be without purpose is not our way Yet we unfurl our carpet in its chambers of torrents And build our houses of straw, and build our mountains of steel And we expect to persevere So this purposeless world Moulded of chance and mutation It sits by, without reasons to impede It sits by, as time hammers at its walls, a purposeless measure, the ticking of a clock The clock ticks, yet the batteries have long passed, the maker long dead Still we build; a raging force in the calm of chaos The solidarity of this fortress called earth, the permanence of its chaos Is challenged by a rusty blade The blade rises against the mountain, no eyes to see the foolishness of its act Its precise slashes chipping away at the uneven granite The blade chips, the dead clock ticks The mountain sits © Samir Georges 2009