I exist dancing in prophetic unison with a receding, fragile, quixotic hope,
That there will be a miracle, that the world of men will belatedly hear my plea,
Renounce irrationality and blindness, the myths that in totality cause overdose, that deadly Absolutist dope,
And embrace and create a viable future, the possibility of happiness, by making telling the truth their mantra.
Is there, obscured by the lies that brawl and contend for belief on this barren world, a omnipotent choreographer,
Shaping another destiny, out of a past replete and redolent with war, blood and tragedy?
Will the doom foretold centuries ago by Nostradamus soon befall us?
Will there be an attack on Iran, that will cause us to revert to SAVAGERY?
Sunday, November 25, 2007
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