Poetry – Contagion

Contagion

Contagion from minarets and veils

To pollute minds

With detritus

From the Dark ages of fear,

Dispensing ritual

In black and white

For messy lives

Who crave order

In the midst of chaos.

As if not eating pig

Or covering your hair

Would guarantee eternity

And bring pleasure

To a blood-thirsty diety.

But there is magic in words –

Mumbo jumbo –

From the dawn of time

When not believing

Was a crime.

Opher 17.9.2016

Contagion

There is a war going on. It is fought through costume, spire and minaret. It seeks to convince that a certain message is the only truth. It is fought with lavish structures, rituals and words from long ago. It seeks to give credence to the implausible.

The beliefs spread like viruses.

The believers are clear. Everything is laid out in words of black and white. There is absolutely no need to think.

The virus puts an end to thought or independence. It converts the acolyte into a cog in the wheels of power. Everything else is wrong.

All you have to do is believe. All is forgiven. Eternity is your reward.

What a virus. What a disease.

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