Poetry is a language Of powerful thoughts and imagery, it can strike in the heart of man, it can shape lives and actions. Then can it not be used to enhance to the finder qualities of man? Rather than providing shallow enjoyment? And promoting the baser instincts? If I was a poet, I would like my words To compell the soul, To pursue the true pupose of existence. Oh, what wouldn’t I give to go on collecting my reward, Beyond this life....

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

The Coming

20-06-05

A dark cave lies in silence,
Stillness enshrouds the earth,
Sudden illumination fills the heart of one man,
A mission is born.

We live in tight clusters: kith and kin,
Fiercely loyal to our own, dreadful to out rivals,
Perpetual bloodshed mark our way of life,
Our Kaba serves for prayer and profit.

The idols are challenged,
Calls for unity and equality reach all ears,
Who dares to rebel against age-old traditions?
Persecution is their fate.

We try our mightiest to disarm this enchanter,
Yet his followers grow,
Our leaders despair,
Their rule has all but collapsed.

Driven out of home,
Families, possessions abandoned
Followers of the new way persevere still
What promise drives their will?

We gather forces
Our aim is their total annihilation
Alas! All our battles lost!
Their humility increases with each victory.

The new wave surges all over the lands
Submerging our minds,
Cleansing long-held disbelief and superstition
Lighting our hearts with the truth.

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