Moving forward, unafraid.
These the thieves and renegades.
They’ve grown tired of this fiction.
They don’t sweat its interdictions.
They operate in a clear.
Above the surges of the year.
With renewal and vitality,
An alternative reality.
With great barri-errs to entry.
And where freedom’s elementary.
In its wonder, in its peril.
It’s untamed, it is feral.
Yet there is a certain order,
Causing swelling at its borders.
More souls yearn for its glory.
And the promise of its story.
A struc-ture of trust and truth.
A new cycle’s in its youth.
In simple measures of a worth,
A long-lost way has been unearthed.
What, my friends, is this thing?
What salvation can it bring?
Is this mere grasping at the past?
Or how the world will be recast?
The madness of our element,
Is calmly made irrelevant,
By the ascension of these souls.
They were restless in their roles.
Makers all, they’re back to building.
For their dreams were never wilting.
They’re rolling on with the excursion.
Seems like more than a diversion.
Most potent force in existence.
Softly present with persistence.
Through ends of the coming war,
These creations will endure.
No matter who or what survives.
These free human minds do thrive.
© 2020 TheRememberings Ltd.