Bound To Save Ourselves

In the space of a few misguided moments
the anger was rekindled – a mad bloody-
mindedness birthed squalling as in early

years. I had hoped to be freed of the yoke
and the burdens of self-appointed magister,
but I went there, adjudicating with insane

energy of a young and sad countenanced
scribe of misfortune, defending the downtrodden,
preaching the same old passionate doggerel.

You might ask where the pillars which once held
this belief free of the mire of real events were
situated, where the true and able walls stood.

They surrounded a stable with three wise men
and a virgin who had given birth to an idea.
And we are still bound to save ourselves.
© 6 March, 2007 I.D. Carswell