Our fidelity to things long dead
Our resistance to what is new
Our futile attempts to keep carcasses alive
And suck Life out of that which grew
Carrying the deadweight of our past
And dragging through our miserable lives
We think ourselves upright
Think again
Every moment life is new
Every moment there is growth
Every moment there is change.
Life still keeps breathing in us
While we mindlessly work away
On our coffins that would keep
Our dead memories safe.
And yet another future full of promises
Is sacrificed at the altar of death
And it obediently takes its place among other dead things
That we like so much to collect.
What are our lives but
A sorry showcase
Of Life fossilised
Rendered ineffective
Sterile
Safe
Dead.
The kingdom of dead things perpetuates
The kingdom of dead things grows
The kingdom of dead things surrounds us
And gives us certainty in place of hope
Convenience in exchange for happiness
Tolerance in place of acceptance
And familiarity in place of love
And thus we trade Life for death with every breath
And think ourselves as martyrs
Perhaps we are
Perhaps we truly are
Champions of death.
Nehaan 