Warfare of the Brain

It all starts with a sleight of hand, a trivial bickering,

A seductive offer: golden, glowing, and glimmering

To one who functions with his groin and not with his head.

Of course he lusts after the greater Epicurean fruit instead.

And because of his rigid, unwavering perception

Convinced him to seize what never was in his possession,

He may as well have commanded Tartarus upon Gaia

To reap and ravish, slash-and-burn weed pariahs

Weeding, gleaning, swindling: …scorning!

The Aegean hung over on wine in mo(u)rning.

Sparkling, sepia skies still with spring’s innocence;

But what about those innocents buried in ignorance?

Blame the apple or the three goddesses

Or the shrewd symbol of discord, Eris.

Man’s passionate lusting burns us to pieces

And what could have been an era of peace.