Power In The Tower

In the name of the Power, I am trained to crawl up the Tower
The lover & the giver is just another name of the power over the other
For each is another control tower to hover over the other
To tether, to hither & thither, the other

Living through the other, unable to examine my own perception of power
I look for the other that is also after the power

In this race for power, to create a space for my control tower
I divide my mind to create a self called myself to abide to my divided self
A divided self, fed and bred by my denomination of abominations

Abominations of denominations of Race, Religion, Color, Country, Culture and every other segregation
I aid to this fire power to build up for my hour

Maybe I do this, so “I” don’t have to change, I don’t want to give up my habit, my mechanistic way of my miserable “known” life
for the unknown, for the new that is not known is abandoned, is condemned to the habituated slave mind of mine

For example:
A thief justifies his/her way of life through another thief, thus calling the world as a bundle of thieves, so I don’t have to change myself, look at my own self and my way of life

Maybe this why I identify myself in everyday life with, my race, my culture, my country, my religion, my this & my that, inside/outside
And actually want YOU to do the same and I AID you to do the same through a million masks of mine

Satisfaction as my gratification
Ratification as my formation
I live for the proof of the other, in the spoof of another

Holding on to the “My”
Shielding the My from the I
Yielding to the My over the I
I am lost within the tide of the MY, a divided MY

The day is here and the sway is near
Like the footprints on the sandy shore
Every mark will be wiped
Every spark will be swiped
Wiped from the face of the earth and the very mask of the man

For every tower will fall, every power will stall
Above all, every flower will hail & prevail

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Scarred Mask of Man

Great Wars are fought, Great scars are marked
On the Face of the earth and on the mask of the man
Wars remembered but the masks still rotten

With the rotten masks, wars are fought again and again
Only to remind me of my rotten mask

When I speak of war, I speak not that which lies beyond the walls
But I speak of the war, that lies within the walls I have built
For the walls I built is the reason, is the very reason for the season of war

Blood is spilled and the hearts are chilled
And I bask in the memories mask of the bloody heart
For a bloody cold heart can only create another muddy heart.

The memories that were drilled, made my thoughts dulled
Only to fortify my walls and prepare me for my battle
The battle that rattles me within the confinements of my walls
As I color a rag, call it a flag, raise it on my back, to carry it on my crack.
The crack in my very heart and in my very thought

Not knowing this, I go beyond the walls to tear down the others wall in the name of protecting my wall

The more I tear, the more I wear
The more I wear, the more I smear
The more I smear, the less I care
And the less I care, the more I tear.

When I realize this, I realize its time
Its time to tear my walls, bore out my battles and pour out my bloody heart
For the heart that cares, never scares nor scars.

Scars

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