A flimsy wall, a common thread,
A place for us to go instead.
Face to face, eye to eye,
Before this peace passes us by.
All these problems have solutions,
Less damaging than revolutions.
But trust between has been broken.
You don’t believe a word I’ve spoken.
Self-preservation, it’s the seed.
Our restless spur to proceed. . .
Our truth and freedom hitherto,
A theater that skewed our view.
We battled with our sense of null.
Reality was far too dull.
The victims of our own success.
The tragic flaw of progress.
And with a threat to that ease.
We lost the forest for the trees.
We gave our freedom to a tyrant.
After truth was set to silent.
Then make believe became more real.
Destiny . . . fate was then sealed.
And what now have we become?
More than kinship has succumbed.
It is the fall, our turn is turning.
Our peace is poised for adjourning.
I’ll see you on the other side.
Of what this turning may provide.
© 2021 TheRememberings Ltd.