The Shadows of My Dissent

All of my twenty one grams guide these weary, blackened hands

And salvation's corpse these hands will exhume

Alas, homo sum

Unbound, of meaning absent

As mere son of Atlas 'midst endless galaxies

With chaos and fury sweetening the absinth

Of logos, baptized in seas of deceased deities

I laid to rest all facades

Sung a requiem for the gods

Cut adrift from old moorings

Crowning kinsmen over kings

Each stroke of this pen aspires

To cypher the fall of crumbling empires

Of credence and creeds as a mire

Of choirs of naïves hailing reason's pyre

Behold this testament

This contemptuous lament of moral attrition

The moment one screams to the deaf

Who, in fear of death

Devoted their lives to contradiction

All of my twenty one grams guide these weary, blackened hands

And salvation's corpse these hands will exhume

Alas, homo sum

Rise above the smoke and mirrors

Of nooses woven with feudalist strings

Only wisdom, benevolence and valor

Are worthy of worshipping

Rise above

Beyond the Sun

All of my twenty one grams, as Tantalus, ever damned

To wade in aphorisms

Or drown in nihilism