Return to Past Ponderings
We have forgot our balance
in our homes of brick and steal
silver arm of death comes forth
with shadowed glimse of pain
pure floors of white we walk
yet never give a glance
Mortor come forth to own
granting height and power unto
wind and rain to challenge
but never to a armistice
nore even a victory or lose
instead they wallow on
never raising never faling
till we build another house of rocks
damaged current rings forth
turning out my word
yet even this does destroy
with every beat and pump
withering pain does she feel
when we ignore the sacred
in lue of the replaceable
I do dream a different dream