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The Meta Poet: Where Dichotomy Begins
A heart that bleeds, tells the tales of sincerity, fairness is costly; it brings death at will.
Betrayal runs after the innocent, the naïve never meet True Partners. The world is ever-seeking, like the Proverb, it joins the ever-demanding list.
Nothing is balance, but the world deceives with a call for it.
The unfair always rob the fair, the equal sag the unequal, the rich continues to milk the poor dry, the experienced will not share, a helper requires help to help.
The truthful will never find their truth. The peaceful, insatiable, the loving, receive, hates, daily—like the Providence whose Love is constantly punctured with humans’ disobedience.
What keeps the balance of the world, are the imbalances it breeds.
Should we now become rogues? And let the good drink from the cup, while moving about with the garment of evil, maybe, the enchiladas of good, they will trap.
Since the unjust live long, and the just die young, let us all be unjust; maybe, we will live a good life. If the unkind attract kindness, and the loving are constantly served the ‘Nigerian Breakfast’ let us all be unloving maybe we’ll find the love we seek.
If the committed only get betrayal, and the passionate, disappointed. What is the motivation of the humane?
Let us all be ‘unpassionate’, let us all be ‘uncommitted’ let us all be unloving, let us all be hateful, let us all be unkind, let us all be inhumane, if you want their opposites, the world rewards with the opposite.
And be not deceived with a crown, unseen, who knows its true existence. Or who knows maybe, the truth is the lie we hate, and the lie is the truth, we cherish.
If we are gods, here should be the punishment parlance for the wicked; but here, usually endow them with garlands.
Or am I, the transcending Poet, mistaken? Maybe the world rewards good with good? But that never beats me, yet.
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