they told us superiority was a height,
a peak, a summit, a distant light.
a thing to be climbed for, a goal to be won,
a race to be finished, under the sun.

but we have felt its true weight, its core.
it is not a high place. it is a slow, deep roar.
it is not a crown. it is a chain.
it is the drugging, dragging, familiar strain.

it is karkar.

the sound of a stone on a dusty plain,
pulled by the proud and the deeply vain.
it is the laziness of a settled mind,
that believes its own story, again and again.

it is the burden they place on our backs,
the unearned debt, the unspoken tax.
to be "superior" is to be heavy, and old,
to be terrified of every new story told.

so let them have their high, cold ground.
let their whispered myths and flags be unwound.
we know the truth of their winning state.
it is just a heavier weight to carry, late

into a future they will never see,
for they are too busy dragging the past, you see.
their superiority is not a spark.
it is the anchor they set in the dark.

it is karkar.
and we will not pull it anymore.