Tainted, without Love…
Skeptic tones and silence bemoans
the lies like toxic swills do flow,
and trust is lost to lust for self,
rapacious lives on cynical thrones
care not for souls but wealth alone, so sad.
And love dismissed as impotent will,
betrayed in callous acts that still the heart,
and for self enact such aberrant plays remiss,
like paths of dissension into the abyss,
all for self and gain a fruitless life.
How truth alludes self-serving eyes,
tainted sight and filled with lies
that erode what love of potential’s rise,
could transform a life to worth,
yet choice so bound to earth, relents.
I see them wander eyes glazed and dull,
repetitious days in battle’s knell,
and they unconscious of their earthly hell,
without love a heartless cold refrain,
counting coffers the only way to sleep.
And at the end, the tiller-man’s toll,
what then comforts a selfish soul,
wealth no answer, no heart consoled,
just an end without love, without meaning,
a gleaning of life barely touched, not whole.
Tony DeLorger © 2017
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