Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dorien Campbell. Not everything I write is quite this harsh, but this is my most recent poem. I welcome your comments. Thank you fellow explorers of the mind.


BIRTH GIVES RISE TO TORMENT

Birth gives rise to torment
From the blind and ignorant
In a time where the sacred
Is deliberately cast down
The poems are all dead
The music is drowned out
By a chattering cacophony
Of mindlessness
Like the bellow of cows
Grazing before slaughter
This cherished obesity
Of language abuse
Destroys all human life
And the only salvation
Is a return to ancient times

Birth gives rise to torment
From the mad and cruel
Animals of humanity
Still in a larval state
It sees not it's own ability
To create new worlds
Like miniature gods
In a playground of mind
It's festival of flesh
Is misguided and abused
And many have tried
To enlighten and guide
Only to be shot down
By a fear drenched mass
A rogue society
Lowest on the wheel

Birth gives rise to torment
Thousands of children
Are gathered enmass
In the eastern land
Some are starved
Some are maimed
Their mothers wailing
In death-strewn streets
While the fatcats smile
And smoke a cigar
In high-rise towers of power
A great depression
Falls across this land

Birth gives rise to torment
Born into a race of slaves
Our branches are cut down
Our benefactors beaten
And driven away
And all the prayers rise
Into the empty air
Unheard and dissipating
Without consequence
The ears of our kin
Are closed, locked down
With an iron door
That no man can open
And the expression of love
Is a momentary blip
That provokes no response

Birth gives rise to torment
We should all hack off our genitals
Seal up our wombs
Retreat into the hills
And let the centuries fade

D.C.