Stainless (poem)

The stained, stainless-steel,
Its iron guts, hanging out,
Helps me feel,
What this world's all about.

If it's all bright and shiny,
Then, why then, just deny me?
Then the curling flames begin,
And takes it, all away.

They say, those great philosophers,
That life, is said and done,
That it's lived, just while it lasted,
Done, before it's begun.

But I do beg to differ,
As I look into the sun,
The stiffer, now, the live-er,
The thicker, fables spun.

Until we pull the trigger,
And we may, now, end the fun,
And now, for all you stayers,
Just stare into this gun.

It's one of your own making,
So don't forget to blink,
As while you were just faking,
We, took us, to the brink.

And now, we're moving onward,
To a hellish, evil stink,
But don't let this alarm you,
In fact, don't even think.

My goal, is to disarm you,
As you fall into my snare,
The baiting with what's not true,
Shouldn't even make you care.

But One remains,
Again, remains,
And ever, never changes,
In all your pain,
That stays the same,
And never rearranges.

So onward, go, beyond your sight,
Push on, against the ages,
The source, we're from,
We gaze upon,
Within these, great many, stages.

And life endures,
Beyond all wars,
We fight, and die, in phases,
And though men cry,
And wonder, why,
We all, assume, our places.