Long live the Victor
The whipping boy is dead.
The whips of tongue and leather breaking spirit, breaking skin
Destructive painful even insidious
evidence lost to the blind eye.
Attracting a beating for crimes not his own
he is a sin eater grasping for food.
The line is breached, a serenity siege
By insults upon his soul
Whipping boy, Sin eater
dines on shame and pain
’til he’s full and ready for sleep.
Little did he know when he rose this day
this sleep would be for keeps
Rise up! Rise up! Remove your shackles
Turn and face your aggressors!
With fire of white and all your might
Pour love to them from Thee
Watch as they fall, they flee, they stumble
Scattered by the winds of change
Whipping boy is dead
Giving way to the light of a new day.
I feel mySelf expanding into places where he hid,
Taking space and precious energy waiting to do his bit.
The cycle is now complete, any attempt to rouse him to eat
A sin not of my own making
Will Fail
All Hail
The whipping boy is dead
Long live the Victor !
The End.
to freedom from all oppression
in light and love
Astara