The Brigantine

The brigantine sails through the storm,
The waves are black, the winds are warm.
Her sails are torn, her hull grows thin,
The ropes decay, the rot sets in.

Along the shore the cannons wait,
Their shells are Lies, their smoke is Hate.
Fear is the powder, Lies ignite,
The barrage thunders through the night.

Yet who condemns the witless mass?
They've long forgotten all that’s past.
They've lost the dreams they once possessed,
The buried hopes within the chest.

Life itself seems shvah — undone,
The oldest tale remains unwon.
Myths and fantasies conceal
The hidden rot beneath the real.

One choice remains for every soul:
To dream while sinking toward the hole,
Or strip corruption of disguise
And meet the Truth with open eyes.

The brigantine comes home at last,
And fires one final broadside blast
Against the Empire built on Lies —
In vain... the crowd still shuts its eyes.

The captain’s hair becomes a prize,
His scalp — the trophy of the lies.
So fares the one who dares to steer
Against the current born of fear.

Privateers of Word and Thought,
The greatest wars by minds are fought.
Stand more boldly! Hold your ground!
Only thus your Self is found.

For kingdoms fall and banners fade;
The steel grows dull, the debts are paid.
But one free thought sincerely spoken
Leaves every chain forever broken.

"I’m tired of endless words and strife,
Of weary eyes that long for life,
Of loving eyes that long have cried..."

Far off upon the blue freebooter sea,
The brigantine still spreads her sails free.
She rides beyond the fading night,
Still chasing Truth, still seeking Light.


Video: https://youtu.be/LoljqAjHeAw