Pinned with Holes

A black sheet, pinned with holes
Designed to enshroud us
Weighing us down with infertile
Visions

Enforcing the perpetual
Myth that we can never overthrow
The very gods designed
For no other purpose than
To chain us by their immobile feet

Pounding their stakes into our
Minds- whispering as fog
That the stars are nothing more
Than planets, and the sun is a ball
Of gas.

However, long before Gods, the
Stars not only existed, they reigned
And stood, titanic crowns overlooking
A beatdown people as a symbol for
A greater light that grew by the day
Within our ancestors, compelling them
To move from caves and into the sun-

The sun.

Long before the name of Ra was
Given to the sun, it was worshiped
As itself
Before man attempted understanding
Limiting- controlling

With a name

The name diluting the glory of
A sheer simple existence
Leading to the decline of man
And with the name, came the loss
The loss of hope and the degradation
Of potential

The falsehood was perpetuated
The sheet draped from above us could
Never be removed, the stars a hopeless
destination.

And so we lay beneath a black sheet
Pinned with holes
Designed to enshroud us
Weighing us down with infertile
Visions