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By juan d'fule Date: 2005 Jan 06 Comment on this Work [[2005.01.06.18.14.1007]] |
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In this world, nature is the shape of beauty: Listen to the silence of its latent power: Our control, our right to rein this world? One tumultuous moment has changed the way we think, Sweet nature knows nothing of right or wrong: Its doom, ignorant as despondency and hope, Leaving waste, a dowry from an unhappy bride: Where rests this worlds early, mighty dead? Collateral damage and the count of human loss, While Europe stood, silent prayers for the tide, Displaced innocents, hide from evil men, And car bombs blast, selfish cruelty does not cry, The lost, alert, at the memory of a voice: Which whispers; mother, father, son of man, Paths forged for those who drift in disbelief, Wasted world, once promised to small hands, They walk the fractured earth now broken by the sea, Yet the wide-eyed hope of children strong Still fire and flicker in its wake. |