[Inspired by Ray Manzarek’s “Riders on the Storm” (Isolated Mix):]
The cry of freedom, multitudinous chorus of liberation;
from animal to advanced being – all craving, most deserving.
Entities kneeling to gods, life blood their libation,
offering in hope for something better than this. They sing
in dreaming, keening for that sweet road trip into the After.
(Poor souls, what if their prayers mask those deities’ laughter?)
‘Cos it doesn’t matter at the end of the day – what sex, colour, or creed –
we’re all going one way; a non-refundable trip into the Great Beyond.
“Ashes to ashes and dust to dust” we hear oft repeated, in our need
to comprehend why we decay back to nothing, from nothing have come.
Surely (we say), surely Death is the gatekeeper, merely, to that Paradise
from whence we were cast out, to suffer existence and earn return; that would be nice.
United we stand, kaleidoscopic humanity (and faunic breathren, too), a crowd
in committed petition for the Unknown (may it be happy) that follows at our mutual end:
together we live and die – together spark life, cause death in others, also – and cry aloud
so that our various gods may hear us and take pity. Those same gods that men
shed blood for, died for, travelled from earth to earth for… But wait; let’s here take pause:
in clamouring for a vindicated Nirvana, we’ve overlooked that we can ourselves be that final peace’s cause.
[Copyright N R Nolan © 2015]