Tuesday, 11 June 2013


The protecion of trees and green is what he longs

Quiet serenity engulfs him in quiet embrace of lost friends

To the cities he gazes and wonders of the darkness

Poisoning the veins and minds like a virus turned airborn

Those men of power sit back and but talk to the glass

Words contained promises never kept while secretly stoking the blind

From his viewpoint he sees the fires ablaze the evening sky

Beauty of glowing reds and orange mask the horrors within

These are the visions of that he fears are hidden by time yet to come

Powers that govern secretly craving for that day to be upon them

Goals to be reached but hidden from the gazes of many naive

For mistakes made in times long since passed by into history

Ability to be held to account removed and dashed to the winds

Where whispers on the breeze reveal secrets held from all

We are but animals all flesh and blood all turns to dust

The mounds of one no different to any or next you find

Fool the majority they do for this not be be true but be a lie

Say many be grey but look hard and some they say to be blue

Tinkering spoiled old men that be out of time

Clinging hard to ways of no place in the now or those to come

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