"nostradamus" poems
Nostradamus and sleeping prophet's One lost image of the singular Eye
Re(ad(d): No worry
To, Love Our Sun :).
Signs like Gemini is to air
Sagittarius is to fire a pair
in this crossing with Pisces
to water is Virgo for earth
too We are the mutable ones!!
Sunny is however we coin the calling spiraling too
EYE of the One generation transmutable souls of soil ARE
to earth; 'hues EYED like a butterfly, here to sample many flowers
connected within a Great Spirit invoked as in wilds if peopled or things'!!!
We do feel it within or without the actual considerations of the ultimate doings;
'letting go and taking the risk of trusting and depending on another'!!! One by one!!! :)
EYE of humus hued in spirit and love fused to the stone's twirling and of the ruse's tolling
So many of paths we traverse here as on earth the singular EYE knows out on the HORIZON
The great Eye is too glued on Sunny Sun's ever evolving viewing's as hued spirits cross EYE'S
Our blinded one eye's longing to Lyra's lyre, great musician Orpheus winging, whose W
music tamed wild beasts, caused rivers to stop flowing and enchanted even gates S
to the Lord of the Dead Hades, the softly lit fire singing inside linking heaven A
to earth viewed from outsider's hues waxing and waning of sleep wakened I N
so ode to the moon in the darkness of night gives but who takes her softer F USED
delight when One day halves by sun setting all ebbs in flowing as tides B I
to Great oceans moved like hearts breathe air to presence's emoting STAR'S
from magic to tragic we long of ecliptic traces cryptically erasing W
the blindness of memory and sight' majestic beast's floundering I
a forever crisscrossed from the One Eye here now to Knight's N
dear lost forbidden inner retreats from the East to God's lost 'S
children cast out to the land from blood pooling in spoils O
as easily uncovered as readily as new western lands had ~/ E \~ N
claim maddened ravaged savagely eagerly discovered ~(:YES :)~ G
fear still rocks this boat with hope still sailing onward (:FORGIVEN:). 'S
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 7:52 PM UTC
once there was an astrologer
who said
*I predict universal pangs but
no big bangs*
but you can be
my keeper
this afternoon
written in the stars
a kick here
a punch there
a hug on the bridge
*are you being ****
or are you having
a stroke?*
guts like a hawk
pure chutzpah and
peanut butter
cookies
a karma pig or
comma
depending which way
you look
me
half dog
you
half god
dess
Nostradamus
pinching our lungs together
a ******* frisee
a passion flower
euphoria
a wave of space
surrounding
the sun
a big middle
finger
a glisten and the
midday present
as you
squint
and I try to catch a little
piece
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 9:59 PM UTC
death is coming, it is a dark point on the horizon
it will be here, sooner than expected, the planet is dying
why are you preparing for a future, the future
why are you denying it is happening, sticking your head in the sand
going about, living carefree, when your children will suffer, millions will die
do you need a quatrain, a burning bush, to see the horror racing towards us
nostradamus didn’t see it, but we did, like a slow train wreck
the air will burn your lungs, the oceans scald your flesh
by the time you react, you will have reached the point of no return
your children are an army of dead men walking
their bodies catching up to their environmental fate
it is too late to cry, it is time to die
what will we do, how will we choose, who lives, who perishes
your cozy lives will disintegrate in social chaos as individual fight for survival
our former rules and norms will vanish, as the strong and ruthless vanquish
you will witness horrors, etched into your mind, re-dreamt every night
scream and cry, it could have been avoid, such is the tragedy of the commons
complacency of the masses, mass graves of the innocent
gods will die, civilizations will fall, as you huddle, shaking in a dark corner
May 12, 2019
May 12, 2019 at 12:01 PM UTC
Yes so much indeed of this need!!!
Love...
LOVE IS ALREADY
Has always been and always,
Will Be
Willing to refill!!!
Only what We through this...
\ /
*Shared process have had, shut down, casting off out,
Have shut off through some,
'Big Squeeze's'*
\ Hugg's /
We long for...
He-Art
Dream's Of...
/ Lovingly...\
Waits Eternally On
t'ill it be
Of this re-filling;
He, S'he-Art's
Heart Mine
LOVE
Love
***IS
ALL
THERE IS
'Understanding'
'Seeing' 'Hearing'
Acceptence...***
/ \
Turn of process in re-fulling internally till over fulling,
Spilling and pouring out 'All Over Within Her' this 'Him';
/ \
Of which and by,
We Already,
Know Of!!!
***Imperishable Spiritually
We are granted as much as the 'Dust',***
STAR
Dusty Ones
Dusted
Star's
*Light
Star Dust
All Known As
EMcSquared's too,
We know our ******
Existence depends what is,
It's interdependence upon,
So Too...*
~***Without Is
As Within...****~~~
LOVE FROM:
Of Whereby She Sprung
'IS' Infinite' and too interdependent,
With this EMcSquared Domain...
<3
<3<3
<3<3<3
***HE-ART
HEART HEART
HEART HEART HEART***
***Therefor it is 'He', 'more' 'so missing'!!!
She' is in Her Own Turmoil, with and for this,
Shaman Master J said 'not even 'He' knows when,
These inherent forces come to restored balance' or,
These things that 'must come to pass'!!***
*Nostradamus too understood so much within,
With and about these could find no conclusion,
Of otherwise what was self evident,
Certain kinds of trends predictable,
But a blank of 'time/space',
That went blank thereabouts by,
Nine Times Nine the 81st page,
'The Lost Book of Nostradamus',
Where it was left open...*
IS... Us...
Knock Knock!!!
BLISS
You can become
***'One' with this then 'Great Architect',
See, Understand A Midwife Be Need,***
***Then Also Completely That None Can Be Left Out Indeed!!!
How else could 'It Be'!!!
OUR X'Factor'S' IS,
Are Klear Like Krishna's,
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That Flute Still Playing On,
In Such This Way Eternally...
This Such is the Spirit LOVE YES;
'Is Defaulted Upon Us'.
**** straight that is with Joy, Fun
'All Deep Connective Pleasure', BLISS'ED!!!***
I myself am Overly Grateful for Every,
***Each of 'All the Birdy's' Whom Still Shout 'even if'
We Are Only Hearing these as Whispers, Upon 'the whispering winds'!!
Re-Calling:
These X'Factors is Now Most Klear,
More On 'Cue',
Being more 'Key' to the...
'Always Open Door of ALL;
ALL WHOM SO MISS
KISSS'S OF THE BLISS'S;
'So Lonely Without X's of You';
On the Ever Imperishable River's In,
OUT OF THE INFINITE SEA OF LOVE,
SHE AND HE TOO ARE INTERDEPENDENT!!!!!***
*There are no dependents or independents,
outside beyond this first off and foremost;*
Come Home All Returning!!!!
~Sa Sa, Ra!!!~~
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 12:31 PM UTC
Channelling Nostradamus from the sixteenth century
Did you see what you just wrote
Or did you just dream what we see?
When your prophecies come true
I'll say, You only had one view
So good luck to you and your future note
One shan't believe from an invisible visionary
When I wish upon a **** star
It makes me appreciate who we are
Everything that she'll be requiring
I'll think about you and make it inspiring
The ******* ***** always seems to wear lingerie
That always looks, just a little ******
But never ever, do they slavishly try
To imitate their true identity or culture
Not like those Kardashian dogs, that dress up
Always trying to stylise society, for a very large fee
Speaking of canines, where's that poodle named Paris
She had some real talent, didn't she?
When I wish upon a **** star
It makes me appreciate who we are
Everything that she'll be requiring
I'll think about you and make it inspiring
I wish upon a **** star of mine
Whilst screaming up to ones heaven
Most pussycats lives, end in about nine
But my time was all over, within almost seven
Maybe I really could, make it all alone
On this place god calls, my extraordinary rendition?
Or shall I live this false life, as some sort of robotic clone
Not truly knowing oneself, therefore, failing my own audition?
When I wish upon a **** star
It makes me appreciate who we are
Everything that she'll be requiring
I'll think about you and make it inspiring
Well, just get back on that bronco horse, named Toff
Dust off that hat, once worn by certain gent
For they will forever try and attempt to buck you off
You the rider, of this very serious event
So, forget about the fame and good times
and the overhyped lives of most Hollywood stars
Live within your means and save your silver dimes
In your half empty or half full, glass money jars
When I wish upon a **** star
It makes me appreciate who we are
Everything that she'll be requiring
I'll think about you and make it inspiring
When I wish upon a **** star
My dreams start to become truth by far.
Sep 5, 2019
Sep 5, 2019 at 6:23 PM UTC
Mourning another chemtrial morning
as blood moons wait to rise
increasing size of the Yellowstone bulge
biblical prophecy meets Aztec idolatry
in a Nostradamus tell-all
bending light flashes off secret project crafts
black by nature and budget
but the gays can marry, so everything is fine
equality seekers wearing iodine 131 coated sneakers
sneak into laboratories to release rats
with Ebola
as a way to protest Wall Street injustices
without leadership we experience the occupy movement
at least the ****** hippies got blacks and women the vote
the current generation is too hell-bent on selfies and photo bombs
to do something silly
like read
research
unite
create change….growth….aid in the evolution of man
but no, not when the new Black Ops is coming out
and teens are posting **** pictures on Instagram
violent **** culture pretending freedom matters
and I get madder
both angry and crazy
as the chances slip away
each day the ability to rebuild democracy fades further
every passing moment means one more stupid child
eating chips
and drinking soda
makes the choice
to stay put
and die young
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
It's funny
I was just thinking
how I used to wake
every morning
excited to see your response
to my B.S from the night before
Thanks to the 15 hr time diff.
Ah, the good ol days,
before life got in the way
I still go to the cafe
to start each day, when I can
A habit bred of
such different times
Still waiting,
hoping
for someone, something
to slap me, to wake me
from this dull dream
But every day
it's the same routine,
the same deafening
monotonous silence
The same dream,
teetering
on the cusp of a nightmare,
each day, day after day
Exactly the same
as the one before
a sick joke
like Groundhog Day
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
startling images of earthquake destruction
mangled bodies strewn hitherto
charred flesh of orphaned infants
lie motionless on the partially uplifted
hospital/ monastery floor
trying to lift and remove rubble
in a desperate attempt to locate
the sobbing baby
which I can hear, but not see –
34 train cars piled
twisted metal sitting
in an oil and chemical spill
hazmat teams stare blankly
at the massive carnage
overwhelmed by the mayhem
and poisoned by their presence
within hours the first responders
have passed,
the last moments..
chocking and gurgling on their own blood
creeping up from internal damage –
wide-eyed militants stand armed
at the entrances to FEMA camps
angrily shouting and pushing American citizens
into places of detainment
while laughing about failed democracy –
night after night
I wake from terrible dreams….
Mt. Hood major eruption
ending Portland
and impacting the Columbia,
Juan De Fucca slippage
Oregon and Washington coastline in shambles
thousands dead and bodies lost,
rogue asteroid smashing headlong
into the Atlantic seaboard
leaving near ½ of our 308 million
washed away
like the Atlanteans
or the Egyptian Kings of old,
sweat coated sheets have become the norm….
nightly visitations of misshapen faces
poking and prodding,
looking at the Cascades
as harbingers of radioactive derbies
and witnessing the physical decline
of its natural inhabitants,
the ever propagandized
deadly threat of extremists
bent on killing innocents,
my tired eyes only wish for peace –
It is not kosher to refer
to oneself as a prophet or
seer or the future,
but those of you who choose
to blindly accept that everything remains
the same
will only be remembered
through songs and tales
yet unwritten –
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
Here we are born:
The ill-prepared,
The underwhelmed,
A baby,
Stillborn,
Wondering after its feet,
Watching moths commit suicide in their mission for a light.
Given no ladder, given no rope,
We pull ourselves up on rungs risking papercuts.
Slick, sick, sliding,
The war-torn machine of humanity seeks the sweet oil can only
Consciousness can deliver.
"Here lies the illustrious Michel Nostradamus,"
Asleep in a deep sepulcher not unknown to us all.
"Awake and beat I am!"
Only some fish make it upstream.
I?
I have finally found comfort,
Dear ones.
Words have no meaning
(tub erutaretil seod).
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 4:12 PM UTC
nostradamus he was clever he lived day by day
living by prediction to his what mind would say
looking in the future knowing different things
what was going to happen to what the future brings
he was always right it happened as he said
relying on his visions to see the world ahead
he said the world would end but the date it did not show
perhaps he got it wrong but we will never know
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 12:47 PM UTC
eating to stay alive is such a chore,
sometimes, pretty much all
the time when you're drinking steadily;
i feel like a teenage girl with eating
disorders: i did "suffer" from bulimic
tendencies once... a fat teenager,
a mega-fit iron-man for three years,
i managed the classics, Cicero two fingers
down my throat, later a trained oesophagus;
but even now, today, after all the drinking,
eating is such a chore... i'll need to stuff
the stomach into expansion worth of stitches
before i swallow the sleeping pills with more
***** suffering humanity: here i come too!
please don't feed me your oysters
to set aside the caviar for the napkin holding
waiters... i need a b-movie and a spoof and a pilot
plot-line; ****** my eyes are burning i need
to wear sunglasses in the night!
i see carnage worse off than Nostradamus.
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
ROAD
Where choices begin;
Some are quick to find its end.
Wise keep journeying.
CARPOOLING
The heavy traffic
An ocean's slow ebbing tide
Our patience drowns in.
METEOR SHOWER
Friday night space-lights
As we caress the hours
Streaks across the sky.
STAINED GLASS
Broken pieces shapes
The Cathedral of one's soul.
Stained light still shines true.
TAI CHI
Dawn's ceremony
Wet grass tickling bare feet.
Wave away the night.
FRACKING
Jonesy punctures black
Points in caves, Great Mother weeps
Wells of poison rain.
NIJINSKY
So divine his grace
Words not made to embody
Ballet when God speaks.
MY WINTER GIFT
Skin so Downey white,
Like a cold glass of fresh milk.
Unwrapping Christmas.
FRENCH KISS
Such buttery lips
Silken creams, wrapping our tongues.
Sweet patisserie.
VATTO
Gang signs, ink, and blood.
****** in a low Beamer.
Cool kissing his gun.
ROSARIES
Madre genuflects
In brown countries of her hands
Old beads, sweat, and faith.
DRIVE THRU WEDDING
Romance thru sunroofs
Hallelujah honeymoons
Marriage number two.
HOT TIN ROOFS
A light Summer breeze
Cools cacophonous bodies
like hot stars at night.
NOSTRADAMUS
Doomsday Soothsayer.
His visions doth entertain
Medieval profits.
CHINA
Man's golden lotus.
A wealth of divine knowledge.
Heavenly on Earth.
FIREWORKS
Our toast to Heaven.
Chrysanthemums igniting
The night's colbalt sky.
ORIGAMI
The creases of us
Tales of dragons and white ships.
Neatly folded sheets.
BON VOYAGE
Like wide sails that cup
The high winds of this marriage,
I'm at love's mercy...
OSMOSIS
Blossoms in spring time.
Bursts of Japanese kisses.
How to love haiku.
HOMONCULUS
Ultrasound preform
Whose quickened heart is my own:
A mandragora.
12 STEPS
Most Alcoholics
Who drown in their own thirst know
How deep "empty" hurts.
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 7:22 PM UTC
Sometimes I wish I could
see into the future
gaze Like Nostradamus into
a pool of flaming water
Tomorrow disrobing
disclosing all her hidden secrets
how seductive it would be
to lift the fluttering veils
between worlds seen and unseen
read the destiny of uncharted stars
soft multi-colored gaslights glimmering
across the vaporous ethers
but then I ponder
in my heart
to what avail would all
this be if I don’t know
who I am
the vast person
enthroned within
who answers to a thousand names
and no name
The One in which
the sun, moon
planets, whirling galaxies,
universes
humanity and all
that exists animate
and inanimate
moves, breathes and
has its being
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 10:25 AM UTC
was in high school, I had a friend who would always claim that he had premonition dreams. He said that on some random nights, he'd wake up in a cold sweat and would have to wait a few minutes to catch his breath before he could fall back asleep. Now, I'm not sure how true his claims were as he never gave me any real examples of dreaming up the future, but what he said to me one night, while we were just sitting around and talking, really shook me. He told me that the dream he had the night before took place in a funeral parlor. Few people were there to pay their respects to the dead and he said the few people that were there seemed annoyed at the fact that they had to take the time out of their busy lives to attend. He said he was overcome with a feeling of immense dread as he approached the plain, dark wooded box of the deceased. When he got to the foot of the casket, and knelt to say a prayer, he looked inside to see who had crossed the last threshold. And the person inside that box... Was me.
At first, I kind of laughed it off. Who does he think is? ******* Nostradamus? But after a only a few moments of contemplation, I was overcome with immense sadness. How could no one show up to my funeral? Why wasn't my shoe family there? Why does he get to live longer than me? Why was he so calm when he told me this?
He told me this six years ago. And every once in a while the thought pops back in my head. After so many years of sporadic contemplation on the subject, I've actually learned to cope with the idea. As crazy and insane and unknowable as the matter is, I've come to terms with the thought that not many people will show up at my funeral, whenever that may be. I figure it like this; would I rather have lots of people grieving and crying and wailing uncontrollably at my coffin-side who probably didn't know me that well at all and were more than likely acting, if they even cared to put on a show? Or would I rather have a few, a few who really knew me and every crease and crinkle of my heart and soul?
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC
Aced fables rake faces into a pile
grimaces tend to fend off soft smiles
when considering the future
sure, keep it to yourself for good
in the attic with dusty ornaments
as long as someone adorns the fence
with ugly colored ribbons
your intentions mean jack
why bother big brother, give it up
mowed over opinions
ending in shoveled dirt, delicious.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 12:29 AM UTC
This is the story of a boy,
spread his wings, thought he could fly.
This is the story of a man,
lost his feathers and sat back down.
He told everyone he would be famous,
grew up, realised he isn't Nostradamus.
He lashed out at everything and everyone,
lost all the battles that the boy would have won.
He is running away from everything,
the boy always wanted to be a king.
Where did it all go wrong,
he remembered being so strong.
Growing up isn't all that it's meant to be,
you keep getting knocked down constantly,
Man hit rock bottom, single tear in his eye,
the boy of autumn, he had lost his fire.
Don't worry, this wasn't the last chapter,
the man's life didn't end in disaster,
but that's the story for another day,
another chance for some wordplay.
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 9:36 AM UTC
Society put me together
with pieces of hearts and parts of brains
this dead flesh is not really me
the scars might heal, but pain remains
(Disassembled)
you can tear me limb from limb
rip apart my heart within
the fire is lit, even though it's dim
for your sins, I live again
(Reassembled)
build me with artistic hands
burn me with no passive brands
I am more than just a man
only darkness understands...
(Organs)
build me with more thought this time
give me the eyes of Nostradamus
the fist of Charles bukowski
give me the heart of Dylan thomas
(the monster is complete)
not a form to stand and admire
what's to admire lives inside
now too strong to burn with fire
it's alive! run and hide!
(It walks this earth)
for many years, man has hid
from what they do and what they did
this monster is all you get
you're the ones I have come to rid
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
Lust with Disgust, I am in Beast Mode, Teased overload. What i cant phathom is being hurt for what i cant control. Pain being in slain, Crude is like being Rude, Hatred with no sacred is like just not wanting to Live for myself. I turn this way i turn that way, as the moon shines upon my face, I feel disgraced. I am mad and angry for what you have done to me. Without Emphathy i don't want your Symphathy. Your name is Thomas you act like Nostradamus You act like your better than the rest if the rest is on a test then your not any better than the rest You point fingers when you should look in the mirror. You Look at Paublo and you make him quiver with disgust. We are 3 and all i ask is to be free from pointing fingers
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 2:05 AM UTC
A Group-B Gazetted Officer,
Working in the shoes of an
Assistant Audit Officer,
Assigned to the Railways
At The Office of the Director General of Audit,
North Eastern Railway HQ,
Gorakhpur.
A former Probationary Officer,
Of an Assistant Manager-grade
With the State Bank of India,
Working in the Chandigarh circle
And posted in my hometown,
Now I miss my mother,
Really.
Before that I tried to get a PhD,
However, I quit it during COVID,
Because age doesn't wait,
Time isn't locked down,
And I had nothing to lose,
Only exams to crack,
And interviews to groove.
Lost love? What's that? A lonely dove?
I've my parents with me,
And I have my victories,
The stories of which I relive,
And these memories boost me,
The euphoria of Nostradamus,
It envelops me in totalus,
Never me, never free.
Even after they transcend to afterlife,
I'll have their teachings with me,
Well, that's a case if I live beyond them,
Because as of now, improbable it seems,
I'm unable to imagine a life without them,
We are trying our level best to look for a lady,
A humble lady who can teach me more,
And also learn something new from me.
Born on December 23, 1990,
In Karnal city of Haryana,
At the strike of 20:53 hours,
Grew up much loved albeit a bit lonely,
For my parents' child I'm the one and only,
I love writing original songs, poems, and novels too,
Now I look to co-author my next one with my wifey.
Jan 31, 2025
Jan 31, 2025 at 9:14 PM UTC
Doomsday soothsayer.
What vision doth entertain,
Medieval profits?
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 12:47 AM UTC
Something is going on lately
Things are changing every other day
Summer time starts before spring
Hurricane behaves like a brutal king
Summer is boiling hot,
Winter is a melting ***
Who knows if it’s getting hotter or cooler nowadays
You know, the sea is rising, anyway
Nobody knows, strange days
Never imagined to see the next century
But already, that’s a faded memory
Thanks to Nostradamus,
The world was to end in 1999
The Mayan calendar ended in 2012
But we survived the dooms, better or worse
To see the former MC lead the free world
It’s hard to tell the truth from lies
Anything could happen, strange days
If you feel time flies faster
And everything is accelerating
That’s not because you’re getting older
You’re not day-dreaming
You must run as fast as you can
Just to stay in place
But where are we heading?
You know where we are heading
You may want to go back to good old days
Unfortunately, you have no other ways
As a mad scientist once said,
We’ll be immortal by 2045
Our wits will exceed the speed of light
Yet it’s hard to tell what is real
The world without end, blessing or curse
Welcome to the brave new world!
The time has come
Better prepare yourself, strange days
Oct 23, 2020
Oct 23, 2020 at 8:59 AM UTC
If Nostradamus knew then what I know today
He'd drop his quills and pray
If he saw today in such detail
He'd spill his ink and wail
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 9:46 AM UTC
I went for a coffee, pen and cigarette
Achieved all but the pen
Emitting pixeled light I sit at my computer once again
Social media intoxicated
to the point of forced regurgitation
I sigh
All the wrongs are posted
made to be right by the book
All the rights are blasted
made to be the crook
Pendulum swings
2020 year of the rat
as we all COVID are egos become fat
heavy with lust
solid in greed
left to our demise
on the great wheel of cheese
Some look to fix
most instigate
2020 Opened Hells Gates
I am not Nostradamus nor
do i claim Quatrain VI
But a Happy Heretic
You keep on a tight leash
Losing teeth and sleep
chewing thru leather
fueled on anti-psychotics I weep
I am constant and do not live in fear
My birthright will shine
Heaven shall appear
For those who fight for good
Go in peace
those that challenge the throne
you soul to never cease
God as my captain just a day in advance
Saturday's all right for fighting
Oct 10, 2020
Oct 10, 2020 at 7:08 AM UTC
I was looking out my window, in the middle of the night,
A bright over powering moon, seemed to hypnotize my sight.
Then this thought, appeared in my mind, to see,
How long will our planet earth last, as we know it, to be.
The year, three thousand eight hundred, and twenty-three.
Through energy in the air, we all receive messages, over time,
We never know when, or where, most we forget fast, this one,
Inspired me, to look up, investigate, with my mind.
Our moon is approximately, two hundred, thirty- eight thousand, miles away, I was curious the same numbers, arranged,
In a different way.
Investigating more, as the bright light shined down from heaven,
Nostradamus, said, the world will end, in three thousand,
Seven hundred, and ninety- seven, a prediction he saw in his mind.
Twenty- six years, was the difference, that appeared in our sign’s, that does seem to be many days, not when you’re, considering, over four hundred years, have passed in time.
If either of us are close, my journey will have something else,
For me in store, I will always remember the moon,
At twelve forty- four, on the first day of February,
In the year of two thousand and four.
Tom Maxwell©2004 (rearranged 2021)
Apr 18, 2025
Apr 18, 2025 at 7:42 AM UTC