They called us the human race at one time.
We certainly fooled them –
the scientists and the doctors,
medicine men with their witchcraft
of test tubes and morphine;
politicians with their lies so bright
won’t you be my slave tonight?
clergymen with their blood-soaked scriptures
belying, denying their true nature
beneath robes soaked in kerosene –
them – all of them – controlling our thoughts
and our inhibitions.
and we, the dutiful sheep we were,
believed the spoon-fed self-doubts
heaped upon our plates in overabundance,
gorged ourselves upon self-inflicted punishment
until we vomited our own virtues,
assured as we were that it was purification,
a sign of justification
of our own putrid existence.
We lie now, fouled by the stench
of the death of our own spirit –
tortured and broken
by the aforementioned
We are a distant memory.