Philosopher of the Future
A recovery spell
Philosopher of the future
stand tall for the fight.
Against the people
for the people
yet hidden from sight.
They won’t shield you thief
you’re not safe in their eyes,
Prometheus gave you fire,
and his Eucharist,
so you rise.
His gift is PAIN
a liver wrenched out while chained.
Your mind’s the prey,
your forethought disdained.
It's the eagle that comes,
picking at your mind.
You feel it
sleepless, anxious, your spirit, confined.
No need for the church,
no need for their cookie.
Your Eucharist’s action,
the call to duty.
You struggle,
you suffer,
but only at the end:
Does the FIRE
you've stolen make sense, my friend.
Christians consume
from the price that was sealed,
But you bear the weight,
you are the meal.
Your FIRE must burn
till it reaches their eyes,
Passed on to the ones
who try to teach birds how to fly.
Fail and it's wasted!
Just suffering in vain.
But finish the crime,
and your loss is their gain.
You can't eat from their gaze,
it's empty, you know,
You feed on the vacuum,
where only IDEAS GROW.
Their eyes won't sustain you,
their praise is a lie.
You steal from the vacuum,
only you know why.
You struggle,
you suffer,
but only at the end:
Does the FIRE! you’ve stolen find hands that tend.
You build for the grandchildren,
though scorned in your day.
The eagle of order
demands you obey.
It tears out your liver,
but still, you defy,
Your moral imperative,
PASSING STOLEN FIRE!!!!!!
You reach into nothing,
and NOTHING PULLS TOO!
It steals your spirit,
but Promethean, RENEW!
Defy your own weakness,
fight through the shame,
Finish your crime,
or you die with your name.