the Pragmatist’s Parade
Long since begun,
Your routes are set,
Your engines hum,
And crowds of waving watchers come.
The flags all wave
The Citizens you said you’d save
Have lined the streets for your parade.
You’ve cultivated long, this seed
“It’s grown,” you think, “it’s time to lead!”
But scales fall off, at last you see
This night thy soul’s required of thee.
Behind you’ve left your wealth and pride.
You’ve lost the place your hope resides,
The council where your group confides.
A casket in the front car rides.
The death of all you thought to build:
The “Winning Team,” the liar’s guild,
The death of this infernal place,
This blight upon the human race,
This scam that ruined freedom’s chance,
This killer’s hedge, this pervert’s dance.
And for the first time now you view
The spirit that empowered you,
The facts it made your mind eschew,
The righteousness your lust outgrew,
Your ridicule of all that’s true,
And motivated all you do,
The good attempts your faction slew,
The monster that your foes all knew:
The demon that possesses you.
You stood at the eternal door
With one last chance to end the war
The truth your mind could not explore
But that has failed, there’s one thing more.
You can’t escape, you must preview
The torture that will now ensue.
The harshest light that hurt your eyes
Will now grow dim to your surprise.
Realities that you despised
Will fade away, not be “disguised.”
And all that, “hard” or “sharp,” intrudes
Into your will He now excludes.
No rivals will assault your pride.
No hitch-hikers try to join your ride.
No day will be bright or filled with pain,
You won’t contend with wind or rain.
You’ll reign, supreme, o’er all you see
No one will ever disagree.
No children will invade your day
Or interrupt the things you say
No real lover comes to lay
And those imagined will not stay.
The things you cursed have gone away
They’re all now gone, they’re far away.
You’ll travel wide past plain and hill
And nothing will resist your will
There’s no restraint on what you do.