This Is Bliss

Where ignorance is bliss

‘tis foolish to be wise,

thus shrewdly will those weak and bad in

faith avert their eyes.

For ignorance is this

‘tis cowardice in guise,

those daring not see or hear in

fear of what may rise.

Where ravers on the piss

come pumped with compound highs,

these cloud the sense of single self in

search of clearer lives.

So takers still will miss

the sound of echoed strives,

entranced instead by booms ahead in

tune to party lines.

Where gods connive and hiss

from mounts amongst the skies,

there shooting rays on common prey in

closed surveillance spies.

Whilst herds cry out and wish

for hallowed goals and tries,

their stars agleam on giant screens in

stalled within their sties.

Where crispy boneless bits

come dished in supersize,

to capture greed at breakneck speed in

spite of squealing cries.

Or cheddar à la Swiss

conserved in vaults of lies,

then curd again by privy men in

spotless suits and ties.

Where ignorance is bliss

‘tis prudent to be wise,

so brave the leap of faithless feat and

liberate your eyes.

For ignorance is this

‘tis wisdom in disguise,

our latent right to void the night and

build unto dayrise.