Bread and Circuses

‘Life is empty’, words one groaned
‘All is for nothing, we all die alone
A bottomless pit is our true heart
We are finished the moment we start’
Thus are words of self deceit, self lies
As such, are words of the living who died
For were did one seek life and time?
Bread and circuses, our greatest crime
Control the mob to remain ever weak
Circuses and bread are all that they seek
As the Emperors once decreed
Even now all eat from such seed
The glowing box and all it portrays
The circus so numb, entertainment they gave
Free help taken from the choosing weak
Give me free bread, the crops one does not seek
Why do you partake in such death?
Why do you allow only life’s theft?
This is why such emptiness thrives
Amongst the walking who died
Yet please hear the words I speak
Words from the mist I seek
I have heard their whispers at night
To not be famine nor plight
The promise that has been sworn
The blood, the footprints before you unworn
For such has given you feet
To fill you anew, a future to greet
And one day the mist will part
No more circuses nor bread
No more blindness to be led
At such time the fallen will stand most tall
The kneeling will no longer crawl
The silent will be the lasting voice
Slavery will only be choice
The wailing shall roar with might
The blind shall gain new sight
The wounded will be healed and rise
Such I have heard the mist cry
An echo, a voice of one from the past
A Voice Of The Oak, a single blade of grass
A chieftain and warrior true
A promise that all time is due
‘My brothers, all are as one’ spoke he
‘Let us escape to our deaths, freedoms decree
For we are not slaves, onward to freedom’s grave’
Broken bounds he made his leave
Only to plant a new seed
Cornered and surrounded as one to lose
‘Stand my brethren, our time is due.
I am a free man of a free nation, he cried!
No surrender nor mercy asked, free we shall die!’
I heard their cries deep in the night
A rally cry to only die under freedom’s sight
For how beautifully can one lose
Yet first freedom one must choose
Thus let your life be full
Do not numb, made so cruel
Full from the footprints left behind
The blood of those who on hope they dined
Understand there is meaning and not despair
The future is to be tended, sacred and dear
Circuses and bread shall the mob always be fed
Such their emptiness, their immortal dread
Yet there is an Emptiless Well that one may partake
Bread and circuses, one must first forsake

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