7.9.2024
The hours fly like seconds on a clock, My busy world now in quiet lies And of the past and present I take stock, Yet in the silver silence my heart cries For peace lost in the modern tribes of men And beauty's reign that shall not come again. The world weathers the falsehood's final rise Its hope to vanquish all whom they despise, To rule all life beneath their arrogant thumbs, Wasteful in spending their uncountable sums To control, contain the Light's descending power, To vanquish life within their limited hour And Truth at last abolish by their will. And yet the Living Force will conquer still.
Poems 2024 (691)
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