For although they stuff themselves with everything
under the sun, nothing can fill the Voids within them
and thus are are filled only with emptiness. Their
hunger can never be satisfied, their thirst can never
be quenched, their desires can never be fulfilled,
nor their needs never met. They are like the wolves
of old Norse lore that pursue the sun across the sky,
each step bringing them closer the catching and devouring it,
and by so doing have their eternal hunger sated forever.
Some stuff themselves with wealth.
They build up mass fortunes that provide them with every
conceivable pleasure, that enable them to to possess every
desirable thing, that distance them from the petty worries
and concerns of those who will never know what is is like
to be at the top, and envy from those who seek to become
as they are, but find that the bar is raised to high.
Yet the Wealth Eaters remain incontinent, for they continue
to acquire more riches, more mountains of money, hiding it
and hoarding it, while keeping their eyes peeled for opportunities
where they can make more...and more...and more!
Some stuff themselves with knowledge.
They fill their brains with the wisdom of the ages.
With the truths and facts known by those who came before
them. They study and analyze ceaselessly, discarding
the old ideas and looking for new ones to take their
place, ideas that come from them. Armed with their vast
superior intellects, they win every argument, triumph
at every debate, their unsurpassed knowledge making all
others to be merely mindless fools and babbling idiots.
But it is not enough for the Knowledge Eaters, for their
minds are like super computers that contain the sum of
all things yet their data banks are only half full and
they must always process more...and more...and more!
Some will stuff themselves with power.
They become the puppet-masters of the mobs and masses.
Speaking new rules into existence, signing new laws into
being. Directing lives of others, imposing their wills
on others, sending their armies out to conquer and control
still others, so they will have even more to rule over.
They want their subjects to praise and bow down before
them and thank them for taking such good care of them,
the poor, ignorant powerless weaklings that they are.
Deception is their greatest gift, and a trail of broken
promises marks their course. Yet even all this fails to placate
the Power Eaters, for their eyes continue to rake the world,
searching for something more to battle for and take,
looking for that one more thing that will make their
Utopian dreams complete.
And some will stuff themselves with death.
For having achieved great wealth, knowledge, and power
and still finding themselves lacking in something they
blame the helpless world for their discontent. Someone
must pay, someone must suffer, someone must die.
"Let them die then! By the dozens. By the hundreds.
By the thousands. By the millions! How are they smile
when we cannot smile! How dare they laugh when we
cannot laugh! How dare they be happy when we can never seem
to be happy! They must stand in the way of our own happiness!"
"Let us kill them in every way. Let us starve them and
beat them! Let us imprison them and torture them!
Let us condemn their laws, mock their values, slay
their gods and take away every freedom they posses!"
"Let us sit back and watch them perish in the tar pits
of confusion and despair, for they have something
we cannot have, and if we cannot have it then
nether will they!"
Then they detect a disturbance, and in sudden fear
they turn, grow pale, and collapse, staring in terror,
voicing useless pleas to that familiar Presence that
rushes upon them with his well-honed, blood-stained
scythe raised high.
For it is they who are the fools. It is they who are
the powerless. It is they who are the weaklings.
It is they who are the deceived.
They want to buy what can never be bought.
They want to know what can never be known.
They want to control what can never be controlled.
They want to kill what can never be killed.
They want to eat the sun.
But in the end...
All the money the wealthy own cannot bribe Death
All the knowledge the wise posses cannot trick Death.
All the power the mighty wield cannot stop Death.
And all the deaths of others cannot distract Death.
Now, after the ax has fallen and their lifeless bodies
have been laid to rest along with those of the poor,
the ignorant, the weak and the powerless, and after
they have stood before the Supreme Judge with tears
of grief and rage in His eyes and a set of scales in His hand,
they wonder if they have caught and swallowed the sun
after all because now they no longer hunger anymore...
Now they burn.
- (C) by Sloane J. 2009
This is by far the hardest, most exhausting poem I have
ever written. No doubt this will be considered my best poem
in terms of wisdom about the human condition.
