The scribes have lied. Contradictions fill their books. They’ve mingled facts with opinions, renamed kings as crooks. Pages of pathetic, poultry-like men are envied by historians who don’t know the distinctive qualities of a rooster and a hen. Their ink was not black, but red like the blood dripping off the tip of a sword. Each drop forces the Planet to tremble with sorrow at the crimes of Man. So she shakes, but we’ve rooted ourselves into her core; siphoning her blood like the seduction of the devil. Recording history as we see fit, but only those who survive the tsunami know the feeling of witnessing the sea lift. As we slave away to discover our past, the future lies still as if accepting the emptiness that can only be refilled by shots — bullets or liquor. The ancient pens have carved lies into surfaces now occupying spaces only the rich administer. Painting with their words, they’ve told stories with profound curves, leaving Socratic-like men lost in thought on city curbs. Dressed as blessings, their syllables are a disguised curse. Each verse of poetry and prose was aimed to impose beliefs and perspectives on their respective intellectual collectives. Each character was chosen carefully as historians considered corrections. The power of a Pharaoh is with the Pen, resting like a hibernating bear until stirred by thought. Those who scribed for kings began to believe they had realized their dreams after travelling the roads of Pen to Paid. These glorified paupers are far from the characteristics of their heroic forefathers that were recited in stories as if dogma. They have created too many gods to count, believing the readers of their words were immune to doubt. Lost in their own logic, they employed language that hints to wisdom and is now reflected upon for knowledge in each classroom of every college, only to be returned for a grade and either resold or thrown in the garbage. How defiling is their demise: to be diminished; nearly obliterated. How loud I can hear their cries as they plead on both knees for humanity to save their lies, for they have travelled from Pen to Paid and continue to pay the price of the sacrifices they’ve made— even in the grave.