Best of Men
I heard of a man who told a tale,
Of primitive days in a primitive way,
Where people killed for water and shade,
And a few saw god in every face.
Worshipers of tradition, now and then,
Called him the best of men,
For some kind words he said,
Said its exact opposite as well!
I heard of a man who heard voices,
Apparently tempted by demons and angels,
To let his Children of Rage freely roam,
And bring a message of peace under threat of war;
Worshipers of the dead, now and then,
They called him the best of men,
For many kind words he said,
Did its exact opposite as well!
I heard a woman with a vocal chord,
That parted seas as Moses of old,
When she sang nations begged for more,
For a while they were gentle souls!
Worshippers of beauty now and then,
Called her the best of men,
Though at times what she did and said,
Just rang hollow as a living dead!
So if you're looking for
The final word on everything,
Better shield yourself from all,
Who says there's no such thing,
As to keep up the pretense
Of worshipped archetypes;
For one can only make sense,
To equally imbalanced minds!
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