The Invention of Monsters

I float across the deep, my ragged sail limp
Crashed at the bottom of my boat
Drifting in and out of sleep
Memories like waves wash over me

Some days I forget who I am
I don't know my name, or where I am
Or what it is I believe in anymore

Call me Oblivion, wary of life, weary of war
No one kills on my behalf
No one loves me ... any more

There are no innocents, only conformists
Guilt by association, corrupt by intent
Gullible by nature, fallible as man
Manipulated, fornicated by them

Some days I forget who I am
I don't know my name, or where I am
Or what it is I believe in anymore

Call me Oblivion, wary of life, weary of war
We've dug a hole so deep, the only way out ...
... is the other side

The invention of monsters, at the fringe of night
Golems formed of mud, horror and delight
Filled with ill-conceived plans of mishapen men
We're surrounded by monsters ...
... better take care

copyright ©2016 T. Atkinson