The Oppressors

I loose my tongue

And tell all who will listen

And beg of my friend

To assume my position

Pretending belief,

Then try to explain

But clearly they really believe I'm insane

Despite the intensity of all that I have seen

My rigid conviction - it was not a dream

They cast seeds of uncertainty

Deep in my mind

They implant ambiguity

Attempting to blind me

My trembling arm is taken

By a stranger's outstretched hand

His grip is firm

His voice is firm

And I succumb

To his demands

Confused (and not a little scared) I am taken to a room, where but one single candle flame relieves the heavy gloom

There do I retell my tale, not once, but many times, at last, believed, I am relieved, contentment now is mine

"...In ships of fire and helms of bronze they came to meet me

A sight as strange as death itself - believe me, don't bereave me

Children of light from the corners of time, fanning the embers of piece

Their intent was defied in the face of mankind, and begone, we compelled them to leave..."

All at once their sympathy averts to ridicule, they scorn me as they would a clown, a jester, or a fool

"Forgive us for misleading you", my captor wryly said, "those things you saw were real enough - but only in your head"

So am I insane? Now I'm not so sure, straining my senses still I endure

Trapped in this labyrinth of doubt and confusion, denial of all is my only solution