The Perfectly Carved Sense of This

Imperial core, pit of the peach,
You’d like to think it was government,
Capitalism, Communism,

Some entity you could root against
Among the weaponized traditions,
One specific, terrible system

Among so many systems clanking
Like armored tanks on the battlefield.
You’re terribly right it’s not enough

To write from within, to ask people
To be better, to be good yourself.
What optimism to break system,

However. Have you seen how many
Systems have been blown to smithereens
And abandoned through millenniums?

Each system is another monster,
Another chimera created
Out of insect-like, faceless humans

As imagined by other humans.
It’s everyone’s system for itself
In the Battle of Armageddon,

Which never gets a lasting ceasefire,
Never gets it over with, never
Really begins, but they’re always winning.