Opaque At Best

-Opaque At Best-
by Keaton Foster



Prophet
Poet
I don’t know it
Why am I here
Such a question
Always unclear
For now
In this present omnibus
I’m writing
Contriving
Fighting to get
Under their skin
I’m just a man
A gullible beast
Burdened
By what I’ve done
Unsure
This everything
Does indeed seem
I have no faith
At least none
In a conventional sense
Quite willingly
I dance upon the graves
Of those considered heretics
I shout to God above
Hear this voice
My cry
In this
Your wilderness
Once I feared
All of your creatures
Now fear is what I have
Least of all
There is no reply
None that I’ll accept
Further will I persist
Complication does spoil
The inner conspiracies
Of my wretched chest
Barely can I stomach
Myself or anyone else
I’m quite toxic
To my own being
What a hell of a place
For a person to be
I see other people
Foolish sheeples
One and the same
Observation is my way
I study each detail
Every cynical nuance
I watch them fake
I watch them lie
Observing them die
Increments on the outside
Monuments on the inside
Soon, like me
They will become numb
Unable to further feel
When that day comes
I know that they
Each and everyone
Will lose their faith
Such is the way of this game
They will judge God above
Freely they will speak
Without fear or hesitation
They will ask him
What have you done
How could have you
Let this happen to me
They’ll be no reply
None that they’ll accept
God is mute
He makes his point
Not with his words
But with actions alone
His crooked finger extends
Screwed are those few of us
Who stand under his shadow
In this place
No sun shines bright
In this place
Only darkness finds time
An all encompassing
Subtle everything
That overtime creeps in
Suffocating out any light
Laboring us to struggle to see
What was once clear
Becomes opaque at best
What we once knew
With absolute certainty
Becomes what we know
Least of all…


Opaque At Best
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014.