Chanting old dogmas you barely uphold.
Your ideology; so rigid, so grand
Like a house of cards built on shifting sand.
Your ideology; so rigid, so grand
Like a house of cards built on shifting sand.
Truth bends and breaks to fit in your mold,
Nuance? Complexity? Stories untold.
Shouting in echoes, so certain, so bright,
Yet reason retreats from the heat of your fight.
March on, dear thinker, so sure, so right,
Blinded by dogma, but bathed in its light.
The world spins on, unmoved by your creed
While wisdom dies where fools take the lead.
Blinded by dogma, but bathed in its light.
The world spins on, unmoved by your creed
While wisdom dies where fools take the lead.
No comments:
Post a Comment