Pitch-black Apathy

Pitch-black apathy,
Unilluminated submissiveness,
Shadowed equilibrium,
What sins have man
That cannot be fulfilled
With innocence forgiven?
Your arms stretch out again,
Every fibre cries out
With the relentless urge
To complete your
bewitching embrace,
A nutshell suffocates us,
Serenade the lies once more,
I could die within your arms
And never know I had lived,
Restrictive, opposed,
Bewildered beasts of war
We became for love,
That shatter worlds
And devastate the stars,
Handled the only way
Our self-inflicted superiority
Could ever play out,
Obscure province,
Snobbish licence,
What is the world you desire?
It is the only one that counts,
And we can make it so
Through bloodied conquest
And massacred souls…
To feed the hunger
Of sweet benevolent eyes,
And tender hearts,
Masquerade of faith,
They love you on the one hand
And slay you with the other,

Come take my hand,
But choose carefully my love!


Poem © Phen Weston


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