It is all just so much noise,
Those constant calls for peace,
For niceness amongst ourselves,
Excluding everyone else at expense
Of their happiness, set up to fail,
That noise is starchy dank hot air.
Within that air so clingingly horrid
Lie fangs of perjury, waiting amidst
The calls of godly good names to override
Our paths in progress of being taken,
To pour disdain and dire prejudice
On all possibilities of future happiness.
Duties fulfilled are not necessarily
What should be, actions taken for
No more than the edict that we must
Do as we are told, because many
Others have done the same, before us.
Say we on that the chains may be
Broken by our conscious choice,
The ties that bind already frayed
So badly, dangling on frail strings
Soon to snap, if only we can hold.
That stranglehold of culture and what
It forbids us to engage in lies like
A snake waiting to strike, catch
Us unawares as we strive to live, to be
Happy, ourselves, without constraint.
For the hypocrisy that has been
Ever a constant background series
Of noises loud and squalling, horror
As doors ever open as we walk
Past, questions asked without waiting
For the answers dying to be spoken.
Those calls of religion are harsh
To hear so often, strict regimes
With stricter rituals that are
Apparently the true vehicle which
Leads us to heaven, just *because*
Of what we are told, what they were too.
Change from one world to another
Makes changes unplanned for, nor
Thought of so long ago when they
Left those lands where the sun
Made us as dark as we are now.
Assimilation, cultural integration
With new places and faces met
In strangerous days, is now familiar,
No more foreign as twas to those
Older generations who here came.
If they did not want better for us
Then why should they go anywhere
Like this?; We wonder at their choice
Of place, cultural space hardly able to
Contain the new lives we lead.
To enfold and forget, worries of old days
Left behind to rot, winsome future pasts
From secret sconces come round, at last
The truth in reality supercedes memory
And all that comes with unwarranted
In the bright days it breathes easier,
Near lost in those days of foreign
Feeling ice lands, where sparkles all
The world in dangerous trepidation,
Irradiated wonder surrounding a lure
What is learned now shall not
Be forgot for the crowding dry
Old recollections of days past,
Left by the wayside, dryside,
Now a blazing fireside, dry kindling
Secret rituals performed without anaesthetic
A call of hive minds and voices before any
Semblance in calmness may be made amidst more
Than the human mind mayst contain, less
Lost than we might dream of or want for.
The hypocrisy which damned you
To this place has no need to pretend
That it cares for wants of yours,
Despite you throwing off chains
Of such long standing oppression.