The reason, the fact, the inopportune.
The tossing of night, the turning of rune.
The war taking place inside our heads.
During the day, at night in our beds.
The spin of a thought, the play on a bias.
The nonbelievers became the most pious.
Resistance is futile, or maybe not.
For what they want is all we’ve got.
Our sovereignty and its illusions.
Willingly given, to these delusions.
Delusions of grandeur, influence on fact.
Slumbering reason must be taken back.
The gift of our maker, the thing that defined.
The sole defense to a seizure of mind.
With reason secured and thinking be cleansed.
It’s easy to see how reality bends.
‘What would be left is a war they can’t win,
All by each keeping their reason within.’
But what if instead, we just relent?
Accepting these tales of reality bent?
We give it all up, we go with the flow?
‘You would be lost, but you’d never know.
The loss of your reason’s not something you’d see.
You’d deny its occurrence heroically.
You would not recall what you left behind.
Those thoughts would be gone, erased from your mind.
For now you recall, for now you have choice.
Will you keep your reason, will you give it voice?’
© 2023 TheRememberings Ltd.