Poem: The Sacred Things

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It seems, it seems
Are taken means
To please, to please
Most sacred things
I see, I see

Trampled on and passed around
Without a thought
They're taken down
What sacred things, what holy beings?

Such state, in we be
Where these sacred beings
Are just mean.
Just a tool - we think they bring
We think they be, a means to please

Seeking life, life that's free
Without disease or suffering

Can that be?
Can that change?
Just taken away
And re-arranged?

How can these
Freely change,
When we ourselves
Stay the same?

We who take
And take and take
Hurt each others
For our sake

We fight and live
Just for a bit
To be the better
How the world sees it
To be the stronger
To win the game
Using lies
We stay the same

We stay the same
So naught can change
We stay the same
Our lives unchanged
Still un-free
From misery
Its we ourselves
Who set us free
Its we ourselves
Who decide to change
And then our life
Is re-arranged

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