Beyond the Locked Door

12 January 2024

I'm awake, and the gods
are fighting again. Is it Liberty,
or is it Democracy, or is it
their child, poor child
to be born from squabbling, and yet
no different than any child.

As the argument rings through the night
and arouses the neighbors for the umpteenth time,
I must wonder, although we do live
in the large house on the hill, whether any
would envy such conflict or those who live through it,
or whether they'd rather have peace,
even if it comes only through compromise.

Would be nice, I suppose, to have peace,
but would also deceive...and in any case,
we are the children of conflict. But why truth?
I ask this again, having no certain answer,
but fearing the dark night that waits just beyond the locked door.