​​​​​​​​Veritas Omnia Vincit

 

I 

And when will all this shit begin to change?

How will it change, or should it change, and should

some stupid, privileged fraternity 

thrust us on to this destructive course?

 

Over what, as individuals,

and over what, collectively, do we

have control? Or should we have? And should

we ask then, “what is just?” or, “what just is?”

 

But are we now so arrogant that we,

the uncontrolled, entitled, cannot see

before us now the slow and crumbling end

of what was once an inspiration? And

 

the most important question we can ask,

the most significant issue we can name

is not, “Dear God, where do we go from here?”

but, “Where's the camera? Who is there to blame?”

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II

Remembering the old days when

            I used to have a cause,

I know now I was in this just because...

                        …well, just because.

 

If your persona is defined

            by adamant belief

what happens when you've lost your faith?

            So now I know the grief

 

of youthful idealism gone awry,

and I don't even question why.

 

The daffodils are in full bloom;

            the grass is radiant green;

the war is half a world away,

            not felt, not heard, not seen,

 

not even thought about by selfish

            people here at home;

 

the price of gasoline

            is more important. 

 

This sick game we play!

 

It's ignorance; it's arrogance;

And nothing makes a difference.

 

A baby in a car seat with

            a plastic steering wheel

thinks he's really driving, and

            I know just how he feels.

 

I believed we made a difference,

            too – all those protests,

debates, and arguments – so who

            the fuck did we impress!?

 

And now the cause is lost, our hearts are bruised,

and I regret the way that I was used.

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III 

Dogmatic viciousness is at the heart

of faceless carnage.

                                   He is the terrorist! 

 

May his writhing soul be torn apart

and cast headlong into the deep abyss!

 

Apocalyptic musings long have called

the stupid, shallow-minded hordes to war.

 

The salivating masses are enthralled;

the newborn fawn dismembered by the boar.

 

The wanderings of Abram's seed shall end

when from the cloud the promised one breaks forth

 

in cataclysmic majesty, descends,

and moves his hand in judgment of the earth.

 

Quando coeli movendi sunt et terra

blood shall be spilled amid the great tumult.

 

Ruin shall be to all the sons of Sarah,

the ignorant proclaiming, “Deus vult!”

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