Leaving Babylon

The time has come for me to leave this city
To leave behind these walls
Of stone and mind

For i am a stranger here
A foreigner surrounded by faces unknown
And words that flash and sparkle like gold in the sun
And are just as freely spent

My fear, that if i stay, is that i may start to call this place home
For roots will grow in even the most barren places
and these blooms are not what i would bring forth

Better to tear up what has been laid
To burn the things i once called me and go forth naked into the wild
To leave this place of substance and search out the warm forever of nothingness

On my way to these gates i pass many of those with whom i shared this place
Reverse polarities
Crammed together, yet repelling each when they get too close
A million tiny kingdoms with their Lilliputian lords and ladies
Mistaking their Petri dish for the whole experience

Swollen alabaster children in cotton wool suits
Communicating through keystrokes of abbreviated slang to intimate strangers in worlds of virtual popularity
Learning of a hunger that will never know full
Interconnected but so alone

The legions of the eyeless
Dark sockets in contrast to the white of their smiles
Heads nodding and bobbing eternally due to spines that offer no support
Worshipping the anonymity of the herd, fearing the question
Choosing to rely on the words of others for their reality
The happiness of the simple that comes with never having to think, or feel, too much

Temples overflowing with the faithless
For the moneylenders now wear robes
True faith traded for dogma and the word of men
Kneeling before their new gods in mirrored chapels
Sacramental gold upon their tongues
Whilst crucified celebrities and martyred movie stars gaze down from the Stations of the Loss
and redundant padre’s teach altar boys their own gospel in dark corners

I alone see the tears on the face of the forgotten carpenter
Bearing witness in the dark to deeds done in his name

I stand and watch the march of war, an endless river of faceless uniforms
Drums and bombs beating time as medals gleam on bloodied chests
Carrion birds and corporates
Battle field feeders
Shriek and flap wings and profit margins
Whilst politicians and generals salute
Spare hands fondling the bloodied silver that fills their pockets and minds
The march never falters
Nor tires
And its numbers swell each passing day

At last i reach those mighty gates
Dreams and hopes flutter in the wind like forgotten prayer flags
Left behind and discarded by those who have entered these walls
People learn to leave them here,
where they become naught but decoration,
their power forgotten
Rather than to carry them inside the city walls,
only to watch them fade and grow dull

I pass the crowd that always stand by the gates
Facing beyond those towering walls
Eyes fixed on some imaginary horizon
Nodding to themselves
Muttering their mantra
“Tomorrow.......Tomorrow”

I stop on the road and glance back at this place i called home
Yet only in name
A literary construction
For my heart dwells beyond any design of man

And I see Justice,
hanging from the walls,
delicate neck in the nooses embrace,
pockets weighed down with coin

I see Equality
chained and shackled,
locked away and guarded by many wardens

And finally I see Love upon the battlements,
blinded,
voiceless
and deaf,
being lead around,
hand in hand,
by Fear

And never have my feet felt lighter