Creed of the Defeated

What can I do to make this right?
To bring rejoinder to our plight.

One that cuts, one that atones.
One that’s true down to my bones.

One that flips prevailing scripts.
One that arrests and convicts.

All those comforts shielded we,
As we waited patiently,

For our saviors of the day.
The ones known as vanquished prey.

They’re gone, they have been defeated,
With our help, erased, deleted.

Complicit we, and circumspect.
And victims now as you’d expect.

The victims poised to offend.
Of losers’ spirit to contend.

Contend for what, and how and why?
Worlds that have passed us by?

Yes in fact, yes exactly.
Lest they continue to distract thee.

With plastic wars among ourselves.
Against our will and compelled.

To craft excuse, to trash our kin,
And well, where should I begin?

I’ll begin close, begin inside,
With those in whom I can confide.

I’ll speak with truth and common sense.
I will surrender not from hence.

We are down but far from out.
Our foes are fearful and in doubt.

And fate has yet to take hold.
So, I must let my soul unfold.

To play my part in fate’s decision.
Without a worry, without derision.

But with regard to the score.
In service to the something more.

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