Friday, December 08, 2006
Oxymoron
There is an internal struggle within
Where there lies truth and reluctance to face it
Where there lies facts and the tendency to turn the other way
And where there lies needs
With wants up-tipping the scale.
People call for 'balance'
Such narcissistic, greedy dreams do not exist
For yes, the decisions are extreme to the commoner
For the ends are extremes
And the means are the same.
Left and right
Right and wrong
The greys are few
And man-made out of the passion
To engulf this oyster with disgusting relish
And devour it whole
You deserve constipation, and no less.
And I --
I will be first to admit that
I still tread the lower tunnel at times
While glancing up at the upper highway
Of assurance
For the pleasure of the One.
I have been given the moderate path
(The upper highway whose turn I may miss)
Which is filled with 'extremes'
And which may seem ironic to you
But is right, you see
For there is no escaping oxymorons
And there are no extremes
As painful as prejudice
And the reluctance to overcome it.
So you see
I am struggling to extinguish the greys within me
And set my stereovision clear
Let there be two ways to me:
Haq
or
Batil.
Labels: poetry
this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 7:04 pm
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