Woe to the world,
The promised land has just got smaller,
That special place to the east sanctified by the caller,
What's the rush to **** and die for life?
These are the roots of our plundered, ageing strife.
Central to feuding beliefs is an ideal called peace
And that dove is yet to conquer the ever fighting geese,
As you read on, another brother wipes his brow with a ******, ***** rag,
And that dove called peace remains an idea trapped in a brain paper bag

Lacquered hearts, they can only reach so far,
Our noble desires and flawless ambition,
The personification of humanity,
An eternal endeavour of self perception,
That stems from the effluent flow of creation,
The very beauty of our nature unseen,
A blushing truth so often discarded,
Dumped for better viewing in a frenzied way,
Our savagery becoming civil through time,
These signs of our shared fate,
Truth, something we would love to be shown,
But seeking it must suffice.

I wish a storm would come,
Blowing your presence to my arms,
This rotten world may fall,
Darkened by the avarice of monstrous men.
I pray for humble cherubs to take my heart to be with yours,
As the Sun fades to a mass of cosmic ash,
We will leave together, within a warm embrace,
Never to look upon this world again.
Our hopes for a new life
Our hopes for a new light,
Our love the source of starfire.
Our nova, we are home.

I'm up to my elbows
In Summer sun,
I've hit my funny bone;
The gangs have hit the pavement,
No one mentions home.

The towels are stretched
On sand dunes,
Water falls free and clear,
There's no time for dwelling
On one's sun-kissed despair.

There's amusement parks
And animal farms,
Camps and hiking trails;
Boats slice turquoise water,
I've daughters tugging tails.

And there,
Beneath the snuggled moon
Couples spoon,
Leaving room
For air.

We end our daily frolics
With our evening walks;
I'll find time
To lift my elbows
After equinox.