I personally am not among this particular group of thinkers; I think Destiny is fun, but I would say that most people believe they're being wronged. This poem is meant to reflect that feeling of being wronged. I hope you like it! Please comment on what you think, or if you want me to explain or annotate something :) [b][i]"Guardian Down"[/i][/b] That Holy messenger, That makeshift scapegoat fell, That battle took place long ago, But still the history book sells. Patience wears thin, The vessels of light are bleeding, My bedpost tears at skin, At the failure of my retreating. I gather round the nobles, The scholars of appetite, But as they appear chernobyl, They temp me, "Another bite?" The devils above will scoff, But a select surplus will mourn, Because as they rip us off, We line up again to be torn. And as small groups disperse, Their Traveler left convicted, The stragglers and their hearths, Stand aghast at the sin, indignant. Now detrimental as geckos, The masses all gather around, To hear the resounding echo, The rippling, "Guardian down."