Cosmology of Self and Ecology
In the last small armed grip
Of trenchant technocrat underling
Dissolved with poison stripped from putrid earnings
Tree of life displayed is churning
Urging the virgin men to give up toiling
To hold the last ember burning
And lay down the sword of foolishness
Vanished this wet dream syndicate
As dizzy spells of archaic control no longer fool
The articulate minds of creative surging
Young bliss beings in the prime of the sun
We will have known the war over
It could never be won
No skin could transform in its light
So with might is right ethic
Duality must banish
From electric thoughts so composed
A repose gathering
Nature unstrangulated
Trees unmangled
Soft sand caressed
As lapping waves
Lead us toward sanity
Copyright © Justin Debrosse | Year Posted 2012
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