This Heart

This heart like diamond
Glimmers in the sun.
Is it pretty to look at
Though hard as stone?

This heart like death
Is about as cold ice
Yet find I no fires
With which to melt the brick

This heart like fire
Guides many a soul
But it burns their hands
If ever they touch it.

This heart like thorns
May protect the flower.
If blood is drawn
I find myself alone.

This heart like flowers
Has been pressed so flat
I guess I gave it away
Then never got it back.

This heart like Phoenix
will rise from the ashes
When God gives me my wings
I swear I will fly again

{Christian Kane}

Revolver’s Revolution

With upraised fists and chants of Revolution does great change happen.  Bergen once said, “Great changes are easier than small ones”, but what he has forgot is the volatility of tradition.  Iconoclasts are heroes when History judges their conduct.  Yet unknown to us all is that the heroes need villains to be more than mere men. 

Fire Away.

Such a death tone
played at half-time.
A funeral dirge
Rings dully in my ears.

No truer a victim
Than the stiff-in-the-box
A dark starry night
Conceals a man’s blood.

The earth cries out,
“A murderer is loose!
Find me this madman,
and so ease my suffering!”

Outrage is the response-
For even dulled humans
Feel the earth’s fury…
A man will die by dawn.

Blood-thirsty hunters
With wills of iron.
A peaceful crowd
has now become a mob.

For fear and fury–
We are slaves of temper.
And so two wrongs
Will yet make a right.

Siezed about the neck,
who cares if he’s guilty?
The Earth’s thirst of blood
Will never be satisfied.

So two innocents pass
like ships in the night.
If equal blood is shed,
I see we care not whose.

So is a murder repaid
and then called justice.
It seems the only difference
Is political correctness.

{CK}

Paranoia

We feel our own lack
then quake in simplicity.
But know then that hope
Is the weakest of audacity.

We fear the future
And misunderstand the past–
If we don’t act now,
We might just be last.

And so we run to and fro,
plugging holes in a sieve…
We’re so scared of unknowns
That we’ve forgot how to live.

Cheer on thou mortal!
You feel a part of history.
But at what high a price
Did you purchase this misery?

So one may go free
A different will be chained.
With wine of importance
Our conscience be not pained.

This is no alchemy-
Our so simple exchange…
But rather reality
In the face of dark rage.

{CK}

Martyr’s Prayer.

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord this world to shake.

Hear the screams of saints arise,
Those of whom the world despised.
When will You see our hands upraised?
Yet either way Your name is praised.

Now do I sing of your name,
and ask you now to heal the lame.
Bring the kingdom to this old earth
And save for us what is of worth.

Now I see a gleaming knife,
The guards have come to take my life.
A few days more till the return,
Tis true this world will so soon burn.

{CK}

Hate & Reconciliation

“Welcome to the ball,” the man said to me.  I was welcomed in and shown a table with a single chair.  This was no ordinary dance, but was the kind of thing you see only in films.  Being the observant type, I sat back to enjoy the show. 

From a Fortress…

A split seam
in a tattered robe.
A sad quattrain
in a morbid tone.
A deep breath
And a silent scream.
Tearful remorse–
what does it mean?

Hear ye a cry
From the oppressed-
Be it murder
Or innocence undressed.
Saving a soul
From bondage and chains,
How can I then
From speech so refrain?

A hollow gong
From a far temple,
An empty word
from monks so simple.
Doctrine must fall
For reality…
We need Jesus
Inside our cities.

In our castles
We don’t feel their pain.
Leaving them to
Their fear and their chain.
I feel their pain
Like fire in my bones.
Crying for one
Whose life will atone.

“Is justice gone
To a fairer place?”
“where can we go
To find an embrace?”
Who will then stand
and provide this kiss,
A small comfort,
and a bit of bliss?

I ask you this,
Has justice no friend?
Are the most weak
All doomed in the end?
Evolution…
It is tragedy.
For the strongest
Will write history.

Christian Kane.

(PS, no matter how many bodies are in the field, the empire will be the one remembered.)