November 11th 

Every mirror has been shattered

Within a kaleidoscope of liberated hate

This world of ours is dying

Of a broken heart and lost friends

 

Landscapes of intellectual devastation

Covered by shards of sorrowful dreams

Wounded by promises of hope

For a time, the future, never that was

 

We're dying a pitiful death

Tragedy becomes us all

Casualties of organized forgetting

Mere captives, waiting to fall

 

New Tyrants with old messages

Occupy palaces in the skies

The seduction of the masses

No longer deceived, born of the lies

 

Sold into a solitary condition

Together, we seem alone

Cruel optimism, they called it

Chained to a suffocating embrace

 

Prophets of greatness now guide us

Leading into the polluted abyss

To witness the slaughter of Virgil

Weaponised ignorance sealing his fate

 

With hindsight it all seemed inevitable

Scripted by producers of despair

Another road to serfdom

Laughed at in a humorless tone

 

Collectivized by trauma

Fear consumes us all

Another whitewashing of history

Burning books takes many forms

 

Still yet we find reasons to dance

Despite the cold darkness of the caves

Shadows, now tender with fury

Cast alight with a poetic flame

 

(Brad Evans, November 2016)

 

Artwork: Detail from Chantal Meza, "Obsession", 157" x 157", Oil on canvas (2009)