Poem: The Beast Cares Not

This is what it means,
To live in the heart of the Beast -
And despite your cries, your truth, your pain,
Silence has been bought, 
And the Beast, It cares not.

Not for your children, 
Nor for your homes. 
Not for your rights,
Nor your flesh or bones.

The Beast devours, 
For the Beast must feast,
Allowed by the cowards,
Encouraged by those who’ve ceased:

Ceased to speak truth,
Ceased to fight power,
Ceased to care,
In this dark & desperate hour.

What of the slaves who make your products?
Or the innocent babes,
Their heads bashed in the gutter?
What of the homeless, the weary & sick?
Or those fearful of the sky above -
Those drones as they hover?

Are we really so much better,
With our phones and computers?
Our clothes and our makeup?
Our cars and commuters?

That these lives don’t matter,
The ones we turn to dust -
Killing civilians and ill patients,
So to “keep us safe,”
“Oh, yes, we must!”

How cruel this Beast is,
Which feeds on the world!
With its claws in its coffers,
Its fangs on the flesh.
Drinking our blood,
Tongue full and furled.

No one dares to stop it,
No one dares to question,
Except for those rare few -
Who’ve made truth their obsession.

Such is the world,
Conquered by a Beast -
It’s power in a million parts,
The innocent crushed beneath its feet.

But, see here, it weakens.
See here, its slop.
The Heart, I feel, awakens -
I pray this carnage stops.

-Amber JoAnn