Life is short, with a

lot of evils. I keep that --


back from my children.

I feel how I believe an apple with worms must feel. I am aware of my desire to ripen and be eaten, and I am also aware of the *****, crawling creatures inside of me. I will be cut open, and they will see the dirt brown rotting of my core. It is a tragedy that I could've been like those sweet, red apples, and it is a tragedy that I never could've been like them as well.

Humanity has been so much like a child
With too many rich, useful toys,
Playing with each one that's given,
And discarding it when something
Newer appears in its midst.

We have been dilettantes and amateurs
With some of our greatest notions
For human betterment.
We have been spoilt children:
We have been like tyrannical children;
Impatient and imperious, demanding
Proof when listening is required,
Tearing things down when they don't do
What we want them to do
(How much simpler to let things do only
What they can do)
Being uncreative about what seems dark
And terrifying; preferring
Only what seems easy
And effortless;
Questioning the numbers
Of a philosophy's
Followers rather than examining
The fruitfulness of its ideas;
Wandering down blind alleys of populism
That lead to concentration camps;
Refusing to admit our vast crimes and mistakes
Denying the horrors of the slave trade
Minimising the reality of the gas chambers
Tearing our hair out in futile attempts
At reconciling civilization with genocide,
When civilization (as we have come to accept it)
Never did mean the true universal goodness
Of heart,  but rather meant the self-mythology
Of a people, a race.
No, neither the good in us, nor
Our capacity for evil are exhausted.
Time will show just how young
We are in our abilities,
Of genius for good and evil.
For all these strains, unexamined,
And unredeemed,
Will find their higher fruition
In the unlit centuries to come.

by Ben Okri from Mental Fight An Anthem for the Twenty-First Century

The gallop of horses against the ground,
The cries of men heard all around.
Their shields up and armor clashing,
Arrows and swords ready for lashing.

“Onward!” My king cried out,
Though our hearts were filled with doubt
Noticing fear and hesitation, my King turned and gently said,
“Friends, do not fret nor fear.”

“Dost thou think I am unafraid?
If so, my guise does betray.
My heart is filled with worry and despair,
Hidden by this armor I wear.”

“I am afraid of tomorrow
For what if that day only brings sorrow?
Yet, I am here, with all of thee;
By one voice, we all agree.”

“There is still good in this world–
The goodness of men still preserved.
Acts of kindness here and there,
And love spread everywhere.”


“For those with me, ride!
Raise your swords and put up your arms!
For though darkness shall rule this day,
We shall keep it at bay!”

As my King rode to battle, we were at His side.
From our mouths, proud voices we cried.
The sun’s rays shone through the gray;
My King was the one who led the way.

He proclaimed with a strong voice,
“Onward, men of bravery! Onward!
For on this day, we shall rejoice!
We shall not fear but fight forward!”