Aliens
We are exposed as aliens,
we who see the folly of the world,
the superficial madness of its stress,
the lemming universal self-destruction
of a civilization that gave up the pursuit of ideals
to just go down the drain of egoism instead,
to wallow in the vanity of mundane satisfaction.
Cry not for yourself but for the world.
We are the chosen ones charged with the burden
to look through the mortal universal folly,
an unbearable and painful plight,
but we are not the ones to be despised and pitied.
We who see the blind go down the abyss of destruction
by their own will, tempted by the noise of mass hysteria,
following the garish lure of the attraction of insanity,
and can not do anything about it
but observe the way of bolting flesh,
are charged with the atrocious heaviness
of having to survive the constant fall of vainty
and see the builders of sand-castles ever fail
to start again constructing mirages of self-deceit.
We are in fact as outcast exiles privileged,
since we are free from the asylum of civilization,
free as spirits to be natural and plain
and shedding no tears for ourselves but for humanity.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2007-06-27 at 10:48
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