The sage spoke with calmness facing the peaceful sea. Son I keep Wondering where the next war would be, who else would R.I.P before we embrace wisdom. Everyday, tears plague my eyes but fail to fall. Where would it fall? No soil to bury deep this pain for even the earth is full, Like a pregnant woman begging for rest.

I have seen so many dreams fall apart and dreamed so many falls on parts built of spikes and fear. These days I await the awaking for what has become has become. Our thoughts for the future looks bleak and sad. This freedom we so speak of, this norm, this equality in time, far from near.

For as long as this village boils every second while we sleep in silence and our care to our pocket of comfort like a drought in sight, there would be fire burning our egocentric self. Look at the ones we spat on, look at the cemeteries. Wisdom no longer thrive our fantasy. We dream of selfish division more than closeness in this cold world. We call it black, we call it white, but we forget these colors stream and will always stream from the same source of life. The plight of humans is not money, but wisdom and the strength and courage to act in love.

Donald