Deviated Deviant
I carved my name in protest on the wall,
With acid words and principle’s sharp knife.
I stood a shadow, slender, straight, and tall,
And swore a fiercer, more authentic life.
My creed was painted in a brilliant hue
The grey establishment, my only foe.
I saw the cracks and swore to seep on through,
To plant a garden where their pavements grow.
Then came the key, unnerving, to the gate.
A seat, a title, and a whispered “stay.”
The weight that I had cursed became my fate,
The compromises made from day to day.
I learned the ledger’s logic, cold and clean,
How pillars hold the roof they seem to cage.
The system, once a monstrous, soulless machine,
Now showed the grinding gears of prudent age.
And from my tower, hard-won and austere,
I saw new shadows painting on the stone.
Their fiery slogans, arrogant and clear,
Threatened the edifice I now called home.
My garden, threatened by their reckless seed!
My order, shattered by their shameless sound!
I summoned all my former rebel’s creed…
To hammer every deviant to the ground.
The very hammer that had smashed the lock!
The throat that sang the anthems of the free!
Now stands a rigid, unassailable rock,
And calls the necessary tyranny.
Deviant, deviated, turn complete
A revolution’s end is a new throne.
I guard the very walls I swore to beat,
And chill my heart to ice, to shield the stone.
For in the mirror, late at night, I see
The frightened, rigid face that once chased me.
©TheVillageBoy
(The figure man who loves alphabets)
