Formation/Tyranny

Formation and Tyranny

A cloaked brood hums

Crackle toes at fireside

Burn layers of

Oppression, empathy, hunger, poverty

Invent intention

Scrap, remold, resist

Join hands and blink

away the dying embers

of the past

Like the night owl might

protest the smoke

in its eye

and looky loo

with 360 eyes

Stories for a future tribe

are birthed

wet and new and crying

With secret contexts

Like spongy babies in the silent halls

of midnight hospitals

Crying for the want of knowing

what the fuss is all about

New stories etched and

bequeathed

Orated and

followed

To interpret through whichever cultural prism

they want to

And despite the best intentions of

the smoky congregation

The ever-futile demon:

Effort,

Spoils its own party

by virtue of

Unforeseen vanity

Unknown voids

For within the folds

of the follies

of Interpretation

of Truth

Everything evolves

Eventually

to war.