A Finger for the Fat Man on the Fence

“A hair, perhaps, divides the false and true”

The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam (50)

It’s what must be done

What must be done
I take no joy in the suffering of others
But I make due.
Why do good men do evil things?
Because they must.

History demands it.

A man once held greatly in esteem and then abandoned;

Hands, uninvited, put to him

May foresake his quiet isolation when

Impatient for God’s vengeance

And light the world afire.

I do not seek the evil things I find.

They trace before me shadows of my future actions.

The Whole of Time has conspired towards this moment

And what manner of thing am I to relent?

Is it not right when struck to smite

The silent witness?

We are good who protect our brethren

And them that feighnt at blindness

Are perjurers

Deserving of their punishment.

It must be done.

It must.

Whispers flitter in my ear:

The innocent’s the victim here

Whose only guilt in the violent act

Was meting out God’s wrath.

For those who turn blind eyes to great Injustice

Are guilty of False Witness.

God’s will be done

And through my hands,

Wishing simple solitude and acquiescence, 

When aid was pleaded

And pleas unheeded for safe harbor in the storm,

The phony blind man,

Pretending deaf and dumb,

broke this conscience and had to suffer.

I pray forgiveness,

But to be truly honest,

I hope he dreams of me at night.

An emotional bloodstain.


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