right and wrong

Righting Wrongs

I rarely write anymore,

 to merely fight anymore, 

to prove that I am certain anymore,

 that I am right anymore. 

Reality

Stepping beyond life to love,

Standing amidst pain for purpose.

Pained painting of an iconic image,

Imagination's delusion or the oldest truth?

Dreams

Sleeping slips away again,

thorny thoughts nailing REM.

denying dreams, espying schemes,

flash frames of black and white.

the claims that strain to know,

that stain the sheets with wrong and right.

Seeing blindly

I see, you see, that we decree,

by nailing truth to a wooden frame,

The agony of darkness cloaked,

defending images through a stained glass,

eyeless judgement holding court.

Blinding, to hide the shame,

of a bleeding body of evidence.

Here I stand?

Divine hate of many for the adoring few?

Or liberal doses of destitute stances,

Tired of standing under truth.

Left to wonder what is understood.

Who really saw the tree,

that made us free?