Enfeebled West
12/6/24 7:27 AM
Naomi C.
Look me in the eye, Enfeebled West,
before I do withdraw,
to my antique place,
there, I hope, to find a little rest.
Tell me how you cannot see
the blasted landscape, now,
before being brought fully to your knees.
The state of your Children,
Women, Men, does now reflect
a defiant,
pathetic, wasted
soul,
one no longer blest.
Liberal West, all autonomy
and weak, conceited, puff,
with no core fuel of eternal truth to run,
no coals of conscience fed,
to engine of the mind, and body,
via captain that is the soul,
many principles in need of being stoker fed.
That train was always on a fast
track down, to Despair.
Now at the station has arrived.
Load of precious liberty,
and stabilizing past compromises,
lost, in carelessness, along the way.
Where West stands now
is no surprise,
political philosophers, since Classical times
have understood the key
ingredients of demise.
The society that allows all desires
most free reign
falls at last to ‘a master- passion’,
naught less than soul control.
Freedom, conceived as path of
unrestrained pleasure
‘leads to slavery’,
tyranny a product
of undisciplined, disordered life,
words from Duke’s own,
with Plato mixed,
Hallowell, was right,
‘…freedom without responsibility is anarchy.’
West’s confusion,
including, now, deepest disorder
and tyranny on home soil,
births soft, multi speckled,
cerebral eggs hatching places
of last retreat to escape the
degeneracy, the hard lived, deeply felt,
consequences, from West’s many
incubators of despair.
Ultimate ends, like name, or not,
in book of life,
No longer given thought, or care,
‘…the worst have lost their fear
and the best have lost their hope’
Hannah’s truth, that has the scent
of False Worm’s long-term plan.
Thomas, who
brought The Philosopher back, once said:
‘A thing is ordered when it is
stabilized in its end…’
West you’ve lost your worthy goal,
destabilization
appears your end.
The truth ever decried, many
vehemently want their rights,
and ultimately destroy
the wellbeing of others.
Raise your languid,
wasted head, Enfeebled West.
Look woman in the eye, one last time.
Hear your own words back.
Of Milton, I know, too well,
you twist and misdirect.
His words to ‘know no more’
Become, from you, to all:
‘more, must know’,
via your supported snakes, wolves,
and sophists, riding high, for now,
on air, print and wire,
above their sickly stench.
But, as Virgil to Dante said
of the arrogant brute,
in hellish depths:
‘Many who strut like kings
up there…here shall wallow hog-like
in the mud…’
You, West, have now a
sad and sorry brothel, a Porneia,
for a mind. Of your children’s
spirits you do destroy.
You wish respect but do nothing to deserve.
The pain is real,
from your deceptions grand,
and your weak relativist cry:
‘all have their truth’
denial of
the ONE.
‘Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me’ John 14:6 (KJV)
‘The Lord bless thee, and keep thee:’ Numbers 6:24 (KJV)
Photos courtesy Depositphotos
