Celestial Dictatorship

Upon your knees

The unseen shackles apparent

A millstone around the neck

Iron chains upon your shoulders

Bind you to insidious simulacrum

To doctrines unfounded

I reach down to you

There are no chains

No shackles

But our pained voices resonate

Never to be heard

My strength not enough

To wrench pious knees from the wooden floor

In unreality

The prison is real

The bars are as iron

And the walls as concrete

For the architect lives

And he is you

The dictator lives

And his statue bears your chisel marks

Self-appointed guardian

Within the crumbling cerebral prison

The skies within reach

But they burn at the touch

Light pirouettes across the stone floors

Of your damp sanctuary

But the eyes of the votary too weak

And unwilling to see

The crimes are real

And the sin churns within

This cell is where you belong

All seeing eyes burn your flesh

Deep into the night

There is no relief

But this is needed

I am impure

Yet in the oppression of iron and stone

Solace is found trickling down the cold walls

The skies beyond are so empty

The trees and mountains so hollow and thoughtless

The distances between so vast and remote

The path beyond these screaming walls

Is winding and overgrown

Without guidance I shall lose my way

Here I stay

Here I want to stay

Here I must stay