Set Adrift: Musings

There are mountain peaks in this world set themselves to scrape the sky
a height to which we most greatly aspire to extend our reach beyond
the appetites of our ambitions growing steadily larger because we ourselves are not steady
Greatness exists to call us to more, but we are mutations of a noble purpose
mere offshoots of divinity are we though we aspire to more
sap from the vine or sapped from our soul devouring we do not feign to know
all that exists sometimes is the deep burning of self gratification
the filling of a shapeless bowl that has no bottom and no containment.
Stand here with me a gaze out at the tapestry before us and witness the silent enemy
See who they are in their unassuming guises.
Note them and be wary:
they are Fathers, uncles, brothers, cousins, aunts, neighbors, childhood friends, mothers, girlfriends, teachers, preachers and preists, thugs, and officers, individuals of "respected" stations and they are detached Zombies
Unaware of their current state of non-life yet hungry for your just fruits.
they strike early if they can and often if allowed
some eat the fruits of safety through the guile of safety in familiarity
some eat the fruits of self respect which the crack open with the hammer of disrespect
some eat the fruits of virginity like the necter of a blossom which they tear to shreds with their unrestrained, vile appendages and self loathing and they comfort themselves with it's taste.
But blood will be spill whether in the bodies or in their souls
those who commit such acts and more
for though i can not out strip the peaks there is one who can
whom none against may stand.