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

Hope for a New Dawn

22-09-04

The sun perished beyond the horizon,
It seems many eons ago.
Gone was the hope of humanity
The world ruled by
Murder, chaos, insanity.
The wicked prosper,
The righteous mourn.
Goodness is shunned,
Evil proudly adorned.
The guilty is rewarded,
The innocent punished.
Faith and worship,
Treated as superstitions of bygone days.
Friendship, trust and love,
Traded and betrayed for paltry gains.

Yet,
The glimmers of goodness
Refuse to vanish.
The pure amidst this corrupt crowd
Shine now and again.
Can’t you hear the herald?
Of a new beginning?
Patience; have faith
A new dawn is waiting.

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