the rulers

 
 
 
 
do not listen to their  
rules
 
for their rules are arbitrary
and shift from second to
second and last as long
as a breath of a house fly  
 
whatever the moment  
whispers into their dead
ear will be the rule of the
month, week, day, hour
 
their rules only meet their
needs and blind them from
seeing their failures  
 
cliche of thoughts past on
through the damp, meldewed  
centuries from master to
slave absent of victory
 
and they will hate you  
 
talk about you as if you
were insane not to follow
their rules for your own
good
 
fear you for walking up
that dark mountain  
alone
 
for if you possess even
a thimble full of talent,
smarts and dignity
 
you will thought strange,  
an outcast and the
enemy  
 
their hearts are cold
 
their minds as blank
as an unused chalk
board  
 
their eyes murder
machines
 
and they will stop at
nothing to make you
one of them, pull you
down into the infernal  
realms where creativity  
is crucified  
 
stand then
 
stand alone if you
must  
 
but stand
 
stand like the Great Wall
of China
 
stand like the pyramids
scoffing at time
 
stand like a gladiator
facing down hungry
lions
 
then fly like a golden  
sparrow of sunlight over
the land of death incognito  
as life
 
this is what we were
meant  
for