The Hands Of Our Time

As time progresses, I’ve seen too much,

taken from eyes, mature, transpired too young.

For it is this that causes insanity,

and causes life to become soulless vanity.

Eyes labor hard to perceive the truth,

and the mind cried in times of youth.

It cannot handle seeing such ferocity,

from radicals, oppression, corruption of democracy.

It is all too much in the eyes of I,

I would wish these horrors an overdue goodbye.

Long it’s been awaited, renewal of self,

finally; something to save us from hell.

Some say cataclysm, I say a start,

a revival of the whole, conscious, human heart.

Let it be known that we shan’t be one religion,

the blood of my veins will conquer this vision.

All roads lead to the same old cliff,

the one that leads to a soul-like eclipse.

One to block out the spark of life,

the one to banish us into the night.

I know it not exist, a Heaven nor Hell,

just the sound of church funeral bells.

We shall all perish at one point or another,

but recognize, please, we are all sisters and brothers.

Descendant from differing family trees,

but listen to reason, for once, please!

Don’t preach to me how apocalypse begins,

I’m not concerned about how the world will end!

Think of how we will be put out,

extinguished like fire, surely, no doubt!

We will leave not a trace of evidence,

we will be in the shade of remembrance.

So as I cry to the human race,

see the sincerity across my face.

Just take my hand, and the one of a friend,

and then of people you won’t see again.

We are all human, one single being,

this part of living, we should be seeing.

But I hope for this, and this is what I get,

empty promises, but I do not regret.

For it does not matter if I’m still young,

time changes all, with illumination, too much.

Reviews

[Lucy Green]

Oh, my God thats amazing.