8/12 Taiji a snapshot of the vanquished

What we witnessed was almost
Too much for the soul
In actuality what was their role
They were immortal beings
Designed to be free
Under the sun
With a mandate to be

Enduring whatever
But driven and shocked
These drives are familiar
All are half cocked
Its all a big vacuum
Destruction at core
From their wild nirvana
Into this war

An never an amnesty
All we can see
Is the unimagined
Negatively
Washed into the cove
Palpability bound
A solution of mayhem
Well thats what I have found

Its control
At the most extreme levels we see
These Japanese monsters
Have no empathy
Not even a smidgeon
Nothing for they
Just wind in their dreams
At the end of the day

We can feel all that anger
Its like fire in our gut
Its burning emotion
And there is nothing but
A great scourge of being
Of seeing it sll
And of feeling their agony
Which does appal

No means of escape
The pod is on fire
Bobbing and weaving
Its condition dire
Dragging them backwards
Under the tarps
Of death and destruction
And no twanging harps

We must be involved with this rootless
Display
These are brothers snd sisters
Taken away
Its inappropriate
And misapplied
That so many angels
In that cove have died

All their desperation
Together they feel
They all are compatriots
Closer and real
More thsn one generation
A clan so to say
Joined with such spirit
But falling away

All of the sharing
The blood by design
Functional beings
All down the line
Interconnected so close they be
Full on and honest
Authenticity

Some caught in the nets
Placed around the rocks
This is a kettling process
That knocks
Freedom to cock
Its not what we should do
Its adverse and much worse
For these creatures are true

To themselves
To their families
They are soulful they care
More so than the japanese monsters
Now there
Riddled corruption
Money their god
Zen tossed their soul away
And every pod

They slaughter
In water that turns into stew
Crimson and full of their precious sinew
They really are monsters
Heartless all through
Just watch them all wrinkled
Its what greed does do

Its never tradition
Not what I see
Its a vile illusion
Portayed senslessly
How can ones eyes look upon
This and say
This is human behaviour
No this is decay

Of a species
Humanity is on the rocks
Misplaced miscreants
Somehow have flocked
Into this small town
And taken control
A disparate band
Without any soul