R. ELLER • FINE ART

Assassins is a horrible reminder of what just as well should be forgotten. Yet no matter how I try I am revisited by the loss tearing at the patch work quilt of my life and the lives of much of mankind who have had to deal with the senseless violence imposed upon all hope and faith that if we choose we can make peace in this all to futile and violent world. Great men and women taken before their time, stealing our thread bare hope that it is possible to be better than we are. These images are not about glorifying evil but to remind us that such evil exists and is not millions of miles from our hearts but resides much closer than we care to admit. For when we express superiority over another, or we perpetuate prejudice or bigotry towards those who are not like us. When we succumb to the fear that we may loose control over what is not in our dominion then we are stepping ever closer to the forces of infamy and the power of hate. When we succumb to discord that hides in the frame works of righteous indignation and appears as just cause. The love and accomplishment we have meagerly fashioned is swept away by the forces of infamy circling life’s drain


Assassins
By Ron Eller

There is only so much light.

It’s dark here in the infamy drain. 
It’s dark here in the infamy drain.
It’s dark here in the infamy drain.

In the infamy drain.
In the infamy drain.

So much pain,
So much pain,
of good intent.
Another useless life is spent.

Judgment deferred.
The truth not heard.

The predator patiently waits
culling out the weak.
We dare not speak

Critters beware.
It’s not terribly fair.
The tread of a tire
may get furrowed in your hair.

Karma is another word we feign to know. 
We do not always reap what we sow. 
This position taken viewing the view.
The odds are set nothing here is new.

It’s dark here in the infamy drain. 
It’s dark here in the infamy drain.
It’s dark here in the infamy drain.

In the infamy drain.
In the infamy drain.