Inside The Machine

This poem is about the machine that currently spans the globe.

Inside the machine of violence and deception
Love is not given welcome nor reception
But the self that this machine corrupts and smears
Is not the Self that knows neither loss nor tears

Inside the machine of stealth and fear
Love’s messengers cannot come near
But the self that this machine terrifies
Is not the Self that knows no compromise

Inside the machine of hatred and lies
A hireling on his neighbor spies
But the self whose image is shredded
Is not the Self to which we are headed

Inside the machine of destruction
Good men are weakened by seduction
But though many selves are subverted
Our true Self cannot be converted

If the machine could win at its game
It would, with skill, all enemies defame
But the machine does not know how to quit
It must find more enemies to outwit

The machine cannot live without destroying
And it feeds on other selves without cloying
But when all of its enemies have been consumed
The machine will self-destruct as one surely doomed

The machine and its servants act in the dark
But in the blackness of death will rise a spark
This spark will turn into a flame of hope
As mankind reaches the end of its rope

The survivors will look at their bodies anew
And will decide to follow only the true
They will know that their flesh and bone
Is only a vehicle on loan

And men will not try to keep their earthly shell
For fighting for a body would only be hell
For a lesson truly learned will not be lost
Men won’t forget the machine’s huge cost

If neither the body nor the earth will last
Where will we go when they have passed?
If we welcome love with all our heart
We will join our true Self and never part

This Self of love has never been corrupted
And only our fear could have interrupted
Our knowledge of this eternal reality
Which knows not of time nor locality