Across a notion

In the faded blue now turned dark 

There sparkles the settlements of an age 

An eyesore to the unspoilt landscape 

A sign of hope to the weary traveler 

A beacon amidst the puffs of clouds 

That dispel the views our tired minds are longing for. 

Holding on just this little bit longer 

The time now measured in our descent 

as the clouds embalm us 

The darkness almost entombing –  

But we pray, collectively, 

That engineering, yes science, 

Will save us again, 

Will transport us safely into the bosom of our destination. 

We are the pilgrims set out against life 

In search of it 

In the nuances of every step 

We are fools  hoping for change 

And yet we see it, 

We feel it, 

Perceive it at every turn. 

But collectively we become lost in the mantras 

The panic, 

The sheer superstition , 

Rock Face sheer, cliffintine, 

We have it, it us 

And shattered in our  communion 

We scream injustice 

Searching for our scapegoat 

The voodoo functions 

The blame is cast 

The snake eyes removed as was our Judas. 

And again as we set down we forget our hysteria 

And once more we move beyond the limits of our fear 

Into the freedom that forgetfulness and ignorance affords us 

 

© TheHairyTeacher 2017

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