The Silent Sanctuary (Poem)

The Silent Sanctuary

Satisfaction always flies, so far from my fingertips
To where ruins of empires lie, and words fail to find my lips

Escaping into the air without any meaning apparent
How can we hope to survive without one another?
Burying our heads underground with intent to misunderstand
Consumption has become the only instinct driving us

Content is a beast never to be slain
Burning it's eyes into my heart
When I hear warm fires singing my name
See her beauty breathe life into the dark

Stratification, layers of decay built up on top
Crusted over with hatred, twin fangs with venom drop

Shocking the system with a serrated edge still digging
How can we hope to stem the bleeding?
Burying both dirty hands into the open wound with abandon
Self-destruction has become our only course

Hunger is a curse never to be lifted
With growling stomach emptier than hell
An appetite insatiable left waiting
With unbreakable magic to hold me in this cell

Subduction beneath the stretching arms of Hades
The world wretches and writhes as the birth pangs begin

If I had enough dirt against these palms
I'd build a better being than the rest of us
And breathe into him the ability to forget
All the lessons that we taught him

Silence is a sanctuary,
But it makes for a lonely tomb
Built stone by stone by idle hands
Frozen in the dark too afraid to move

Selective hearing, so your true nature remains unknown
I'll surrender my sympathies when you find a way over this wall

Broken politics to keep our deep core afraid
Celebrate differences so we can forget we're the same
Relive symphonies of bloodshed for which we are ashamed
Rebuild the guilt of ancestral sins to hold equality at bay

Boundaries seem solid but only at a glance
We should not seek to chain each other or enslave ourselves
This self-perpetuating spiral of misunderstanding and doubt
Will only end when the victims of self free themselves

Sundering our best attempts to honestly communicate
What can I do, but retreat back into silence?

Here in the tinny halls left soundless in the void
I build a shrine to all the times I could have made a way
The warden is an old man now left wrinkled by his toil
But as I hold these decrepit keys I fear escape

To stand judge to myself is to wallow in regret
Of the petty and narcissistic self-hatred I beget
Of all the privilege that humanity has squandered and lost
By returning to fear and division and shunning unity and love

Set back a thousand years by borders in the dirt
Lines drawn by ideologues onto every child born

I seek the stairway into the sanctuary deep
Where these secrets and these dreams are the company I keep
Where the warden waits watching the sands escape his glass
And the only time I see him is in the mirror when I pass

Fear is a set of shackles we have no need of
But like all other instincts it lives within our blood
And so our dance continues like the embers from a flame
That meet the swirling air before they dissipate

My bones are just like yours friend, indistinguishably dead
Our purpose and our meaning are illusions in our heads

All the sins of all our Fathers
Mean precisely nothing in the end
Forget the things that will divide us
Forsake what feeds our prejudice

Content is gently calling
Satisfaction just beyond
Hunger sated by belonging
A tomb together, not alone

Awaken from this slumber to find your heart is beating still
Seeking truth instead of sorrow, togetherness instead of fear

Profit is no higher power
Religion is no sacred creed
Silence is no sanctuary
There is no salvation in greed

Understanding is no challenge,
When you love your fellow man
Forget the fears that divide us
Forsake what feeds our prejudice

Satisfaction always flies, so far from my fingertips
To where ruins of empires lie, and words fail to find my lips

Author's Notes

I figured I should post something for World Poetry Day so here it is. There's a lot of themes going on in this one. We start with this idea that human beings can never be truly satisfied or content, that consumption is an instinct we have. Our species evolved living with scarcity and so we're never truly content with what we have, we always seek to obtain more even when it seems irrational to do so.

At the same time though there is a theme about the ways in which we misunderstand and talk past each other. People seem to want to deliberately misunderstand and misrepresent other people's ideas and stances in an attempt to divide us. Amidst all this madness the introverted just remain silent, hiding themselves away so they don't have to deal with the world outside their sanctuary.

People want to exert power, they want their ideology to win, they want wealth and influence but despite all that they end up just as dead:

My bones are just like yours friend, indistinguishably dead
Our purpose and our meaning are illusions in our heads

This line is loosely based on a famous legend about when Alexander the Great met the philosopher Diogenes. Diogenes was sorting around in some bones as Alexander approached and said, "I am searching for the bones of your Father but cannot distinguish them from the bones of a slave."

Anyway I hope you enjoy the poem and thanks as always for reading!

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Comments 3 comments

AlexJ123 profile image

AlexJ123 8 months ago from Stoke-On-Trent

I enjoyed reading this poem. I particularly like the line "This self-perpetuating spiral of misunderstanding and doubt Will only end when the victims of self free themselves". This line seems to be reinforcing the great power of our thoughts and imagination by highlighting the fact that we are responsible for confusing ourselves. I agree with this because I think that only we can change the way we perceive something.


Titen-Sxull profile image

Titen-Sxull 8 months ago from back in the lab again Author

Thanks AlexJ123 I'm glad you enjoyed it.

You're right, we do tend to confuse ourselves and this generation of young people is very self-absorbed and driven by ego, myself included. We are all, in a sense, enslaved to our own egos and self-interests and that makes it hard to give new ideas and other perspectives a fair shake.


Discordzrocks profile image

Discordzrocks 8 months ago from Austin TX

Poems always get me inspired, the pure thought that goes in every word makes me get fired. Signed, Zoidberg

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