What selfish act that is done upon oneself When suffrage blinds the competent soul And inability shatters luminous dreams. So terrible is this deed in the dark of nothing That we feel to destroy the roots of the tree. Though, we travel unguided As a blind man does on his midnight stroll. Before damning the evil, let our eyes be fixed On what we are destroying. The evil in us may overshadow our common judgement And all will cancel righteousness and glory. The sin to kill is one vaguely defined There are those who feel there is no other way And there are those who feel there is always one. To be sure is to be without wonder And without wonder, we are nothing but machines Programmed with the junk mail that is stuffed into our craniums While the paychecks and love letters are blown away Lost in the gentle summer breeze. Ironically, nature's air is able to refill our soul With the ecstasy taken just a short time before. If no one is listening to the soothsayer's song Are the words meaningful to the still? The phrases ring free in an ineluctable tone Never ignored by humanity Because they are not heard. - Discard your junk mail, let your wonder remain strong If you are confident and sure List for the soothsayer's song. Expose the internal privy for each to espy Leaving all open Unto crucify.
Reason for writing:
Normally I believe the inspiration for the poem is not very important to the readers, because the readers needs to connect the writings in their own ways. But in this case, I wrote this poem when the issue of assisted suicide came up. Though my position on the matter isn't clear from the writing (which it isn't meant to be), the poem is a plea to think about our actions and what comes out of our mouths, specifically on assisted suicide, but also in general. To discard the junk mail constantly fed to us.
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