Field Of Dreams

Mike Essig
Aug 22, 2017 · 2 min read
Imaging Genocide

Beauty is power; a smile is its sword. Leon Trotsky

Heaven on earth is a deadly dream.
faceless billions have perished in pain
trying to weave that dream’s yarn.
A new man, a new state, a better world,
each romantic attempt fails,
the terrible beauty of flawed perfection
painted over in the bloodiest red.
To build the new the old must die,
the bricks of better formed of ashes,
the ashes of sacrificed victims.
China, Russia, Germany, Cambodia,
all utopias balanced on broken bones.
Their creators believed history
marched inevitably on their side.
History that fierce, hungry beast
fed with the bodies of endless others.
Their ends always justify their means.
No omelets without breaking eggs.
Power shoots from the barrel of a gun.
Revolutions never made by reason.
True believers wrap logic in faith
and coldly execute each painful move
filled with the poisonous certainty
that their’s will be the final victory
and all will be worth it in the end.
Those who know they alone know the way
never count the human consequences
and breakfast on infidel hearts everyday.


If you like this piece, and can afford it, please consider donating.

Be a modern Medici. Support the Arts. Cheap at a buck.

Other Voices

A sanctuary for orphaned poems and prose.

)

Mike Essig

Written by

Honorary Schizophrenic. Recent refugee. Displaced person. Old white male. Confidant of cassowaries.

Other Voices

A sanctuary for orphaned poems and prose.