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RITUAL

by Benedict Quetzal

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1.
Ritual 03:15
Taken in your arms, form means nothing when you depart. A game, such planning. In which box do you reside? Defined. The false prophets and air you breathe, etched into your family, Passed down through the centuries. Do you believe? And I had thought I'd come, To understand how rituals and fallacies can be undone. The beads of sweat on your lips, The figures down the side, I will stay close to you, Your Catholic guilt is mine.
2.
A life made by your hand but by whose hand do you live, Your thoughts just gears that shift. But am I any different in that I compute; a soldier obeys and salutes, Is it just biology, a matter of philology, when you say a brain is the only way? If I say these words can I feel? But those lexis on your tongue, They're just numbers - zeros and ones. Muscle power to brain power, Will your synth love lead to new Albion Mill fires? It's more than I can take. You were a visionary but now it's gone sour, those machines that you made have taken our power. As the curtain comes down on human skin and bone, we realise we were nothing and the place we called our own was not our own. We were just stewards for a time but then progress came along and threw us aside.

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released August 5, 2017

Recorded by Daniel Pope
Cover artwork image 'Ritual Heights' by SJR Thomas

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Benedict Quetzal Brighton, UK

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