There is more to see
Than just the world.
Deep into a void
Is the mind hurled
with reckless care
Only to be whirled
All about by a wind
So quickly unfurled.
All in a long quest
for wisdom- the pearl.
Fleeing all sanity
As if it were curse,
Logic falls behind
And fancy comes first.
Bright colors emerge
and what we fear worst
Is to lose our ground
While satisfying thirst
In an unending quest
For neverending mirth.
Damn these mirages
and all their shadows.
The earth is nothing
But cosmic playdough!
Shaped by mere thoughts
Like wind to a willow.
By a whiseper it came
In apocolypse it goes.
Folding like bad cards
Or a failed stage show.
“Vanity!” cries a preacher
In such a lonely pulpit.
Though needing to be cried
From the tallest parapet.
Wisdom yet reaches out
To touch Satan’s puppets
Singing songs of warning-
silver bells and trumpets.
The spirit of this age
Seems quite the strumpet…
Christian Kane
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