Genocidal Con
by Odin Roark

Oh to stay conscious
amidst heavy sky
as Nature and man turns on itself.

Air so laden with mental waste,
bridling the leaf and flower
with faux caresses of duplicity,
continues delivering putrefaction
smothered in the Air-Wick of deceit.

Enemies impervious to wakefulness
focus on the brain’s chemical vulnerability,
where awareness starvation succumbs to rainbow poison
sheening our waters, providing but hopeful mirages for the mind,
coating existence to become but dust,
a vanquished erosion of life,
where time's inevitable vortex of failed reason,
becomes pretension’s victory,
rational man’s demise.

Sadly…

Too many of our species of reason
stand stoic atop fantasized castle walls,
peering through distorted lenses
at fields and oceans below,
ignorant that humankind’s narcissism
will ultimately succumb to piranha-infested moats.

How pernicious our abused living,
becoming skeletal throw-away,
continuing unrealized,
trumpeting blindness into the growing echo
of a vacuous Neverland.

When might we learn
tenacious self-destruction
ultimately becomes its own wind-blown waste?

But…

Like a well played chess game,
patience continues to survive,
even as some delusional board pieces
recklessly rush forward,
believing the game is theirs to control.

Ignorant of their own locust-like gluttony,
such people continue to prostrate their allegiance to the genocidal con,
while some of us choose to remain resolute,
our feet always seeking stable ground,
peering into the potential darkness…
wide-awake.