Stars shine in the eyes of the lord.
But this isn’t about the lord.
We live in seas of whirlwind; on lands of doubt. But what if we do live at the bottom of the sea, to a being, superior to us all?
Maybe, just maybe, we do.
Ever put honey, oil, and water together in a glass? Add next, a metal nut and a grape. The honey settles at the bottom of the glass, the nut at its bottom surface, while the water and oil remain above the honey in their respective order, the grape at the bottom of the water, but above the surface of honey.
But has one ever defined these laws of density, to perhaps define society as well?
What if our sky is the ground to a being, and we’re at the bottom of what they think is the ocean?
But what if that’s true even without the “being” in question?
Allow me to explain.
We’re all slaves to hierarchy. A hierarchy we believe we’ve escaped, but it shows through in our eyes every time we look at a worker with disgust. In our words, every time we pseudo-scientifically mouth stereotypes to our children. In our limbs, whenever we refuse to touch a “dirty” human. And in our hearts, when we deny an ounce of kindness to those, perhaps more deserving than we are, only for what they were “born into/for”.
And every time we “reform” society, we push the iron of a lower “class” deeper into water.
Into a form of reluctant death, or life, they can’t escape.
And regardless of the grape of the thought of change, the water and oil stay on top of the viscous layer of honey, or the vicious cycle of society.
Every so often, a pearler probably dives into our ocean. Creates probably an invisible ripple in the sky. He picks out his oysters, worthless if picked from the honey, prized if picked from the oil. The facades remain on these faces as they escape cycles of life and death, which some do better than others.
The lord is the visor. The person collecting pearls from the pearler, the one profiting off the faces he collects.
He receives an oyster from the honey.
And the stars
No longer shine
In the eyes
Of the lord.
