The New Dark Ages

Afraid
Fearing the witch hunters
The religious death-cult fundamentalists
of the early twenty-first century

I huddle in my cyber construct
Fearing not the light of Day
but the Darkness in the hearts of my Fellow Men
Not the Truth
but the Lies that flicker in their death crazed eyes

I am not strong enough to be burnt without screaming
Not strong enough to hold to my principles
While these later-day inquisitors heat up their irons

I censor myself

And despise myself for my weakness . . .
for my rape

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s