06 December 2017

The Barsoom Paradox

A revolution in quarters by the minds of an eye in the darkness
Four noses in the corners and staring at each alone
Another day of noble wolves tearing at the same bone
Forgetting that many sheep along the river starves none

Calling many to prepare to fight alone and stare at a tomb
Nomads in the wasteland carrying whips of their time
Carving with sharp tongues forgotten tales of dune lines
Newest basin flooding daily with misguided hearts and minds

Creating mercy for no other in the place of all lost time
By the seas lined with bones and shores of thrown stones
Could pissers be outnumbered or the bricks be undertow
But we never will remember if we've all been hanged for show

Giving misery outnumbers children and their hopes of home
Where the lack of war is plenty and the magnitude is peace
Greatest is the love of wisdom where there isn't strife or grief
Why the eyes of sleep are open with the reaper and the thief