Gods too many
Fluid in appearances
Stealthy of intentions
Walking high on the stilts
righteousness reaching the skies
Wit crawling the will
shrewd and schematic
Altruism a guise
to mask the charity to self
All that's left behind
the legacy, the benevolence
philanthropy and service
All footprints on water
An attempt futile
to live beyond the grave's confines
Mere remnants of opera orchestrated
in the honour of self-praise
A tinnitus refractory unwilling to die
drowning the pleas of (those) who
keep starving,
dying nameless,
waiting for the God to appear
and save them at once.
While the blessed few busy themselves
posing Gods through
well-choreographed steps
and well-timed accolades.
Gods too many walking about.
Humans too few left.
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