God help those whose hidden tears
flow with no reservation
whose hearts are filled with the pain
of a thousand dying men

If he should kiss their fate
with majestic unseen lips
like an all-enveloping sea of
unadulterated love

They could see all that
their future could hold, and
lift their heads to greet it
with hope and joy in their eyes

Alas there is no unseen
hand to pluck the resonant chords
of our futures. We are to ebb
and flow with the rythms
that we ourselves create.