Dominion

    The gods of confusion ask for your autograph,
    and deny they have destroyed everything you love.
    They promise you nothing,
    they scream at you to shut up,
    and demand that you hand over the keys.
    No matter what excuses you invent,
    the shadows whisper a warning in your ear.
    Is this only a game?

    You are willing to admit
    that your dreams don't mean anything,
    and that it's time to grow up,
    but you are convinced that greed will save you.
    The night is filled with the sound of your breathing,
    and you find out
    it's only the end of the first round.

    The gods who chain-smoke all day
    explain their political positions
    until you are exhausted.
    They suggest various tourist attractions
    just for the pain of it.
    You offer to demonstrate
    how a small conspiracy of gardeners
    secretly control the world,
    but you find you cannot hide.
    They tell you you are beautiful,
    but small children still point at you on the street.
    It has been true since the beginning.
    Is this the reason you were born?

    In the night you feel afraid.
    Despite everything you know,
    you don't like what you see,
    and you start imagining
    that your innocence doesn't convince anyone.
    The shadows whisper your darkest secrets in public.
    You need more practice,
    but there's no real chance.
    Spider webs are clouding your vision.
    There is only one way out,
    and you fear this exit leads to remorse.
    The steel is cold.
    Gradually, the pain fades.

    Ed Hoyer Jr
    c.1993