Burden of Destiny

Burden Of Destiny

The walls are painted white, the cleansing ready to occur

The screams and cries with the pass of time will turn into a blur

No blood is spilled but your hands are not clean and white

You try to hide the truth with lies, paint up the sight

As they carry out the bodies to incinerate

Their lungs are filled with ones you exterminate

They are kept strong; will this work really set them free!?

You try to tell them “Is not what you see”

Striped out of life, we enter a dystopic world

Into the fire, one by one, our naked bodies are hurled

Our souls are free by the smoke that rises through the air

Our bones are ash and bits of dust that spread everywhere

We are not afraid of death, life is so much worse

We want to close our eyes and get out of this curse

How could we know that work would not set us free!?

They try to tell us “Is not what you see”

“Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush, I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight. I am the soft star-shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die.”

(by Mary Elizabeth Frye)

Striped out of life, I enter a dystopic world

Into the fire, alone, my naked body is hurled

My soul is free by the smoke that rises through the air

My bones are ash and bits of dust that spread everywhere

I am not afraid of death, life is so much worse

I want to close my eyes and get out of this curse

How could I know that work would not set me free!?

They try to tell me “Is not what you see”