The brave and the frail are sacrificed on the same altar,
Cold seizing hands fondle them, imitating security,
But this forfeiture has no saviour; its end is foretold,
The last gasp is from a man, who was destined to falter,
Someone who demanded peace and heaven for purity.
Feeling every jagged knife sink deep in a heart, now cold,
He feels pangs of betrayal, mistreatment and deception.
You can go on coveting the charms of this great error,
But you have no right to feel, nor want, nor even to live.
Justice and mercy are callous ghosts of your perception,
That rise from other committed souls that share your terror.
The love in your sorrowful eyes was never yours to give.
All is stolen, so join the thieves with your life as your prize.
The end is a dream of a kind Mother with loving eyes,
Having sharpened the knives and prepared a soft place to rest,
She smiles with arms outstretched, welcoming her child to her breast.
-
Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: April 27th, 2025 02:50
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
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Comments4
This poem speaks to me of how we as humans have constructs of justice, fairness, equity, that are nonexistent in the real world and it is only in the mind that they reside. The universe as mother sharpens her knives and makes us a soft bed both at the same time. A lovely poem and a fave
Yes this is an inspired interpretation.Thank you so much for your insight.
Now here's quite a dark, nihilistic meditation on sacrifice, betrayal, and false comfort, culminating in a chilling maternal figure who embodies both love and destruction. Scary good🙏🏻🕊️
Yes a great interpretation.Thank you so much for your comments .Much appreciated
Most welcome... and perhaps that deja vu is a good thing 🙏🏻🕊️
Darkly beautiful. Your imagery is striking!!
Thank you so much for commenting.Much appreciated
To the dark depths of man's depravity, harrowingly expressed as it should be. An uncomfortable read but must be read for its honesty, poetic prowess and a profound reminder of, 'the banality of evil'. A powerful passage of poetry.
All the best,
Tony.
Thank you for you insightful critique.Always appreciated
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