# The Masters

**Published by:** [Compossible - that which can live together](https://paragraph.com/@compossible/)
**Published on:** 2025-01-05
**Categories:** israel, palestine, poetry, deserts
**URL:** https://paragraph.com/@compossible/the-masters

## Content

Is there a bright line That separates Indifference and contempt From the darkerUrge to exterminate? Surely it is a journey of a thousand steps…That leads over the Mountains of DeceitDown through the Gorge of Avarice Passing the Plains of Ignorance and thence Through the well trodden Valleys of Violence Until we are ledTo the promised Uplit lands (Where our failures and shameCan be consigned to History, which is only everPreserved in the dark) At last our self-hate Can evaporateIn the bright Destroying sun This must be the longPromised placeWhere we will never be Prey againShalom for us, at last Arriving we notice the others Still in our midstThey were useful (for a while) For cleaning and carrying and such(When they remembered their place)More often than not they wereUnruly mulesWe tolerated them But made sure never to spare the whip Now their presence troubles us Disturbing in ways we can't quite sayThey are an asideNot fully realNot like our kindThese half-remembered Wailing ghosts Begging for their existence In the valley of the ancient Kings Hear our roar:We are the masters now! The shifting desert sands Stretched out serpentine Whispering:SilenceAll things shall fail in timeRead Part X of Sefirah – Canto for David:ExodusWhat promise Was forgot or broken To make us so Forsaken?https://paragraph.xyzRead Part VIII of Sefirah – Canto for David:If This Is A ManWe questioned him hard, hammered him and watched him break into a thousand pieces and shards.https://paragraph.xyzAI ArtFurther reading:OzymandiasNear them, on the sand, Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed; And on the pedestal, these...https://www.poetryfoundation.org

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