Hope Lost and Found

I stand tall on the windy mountain side. Look down on mankind’s world And snort in depreciated disgust. Let death embrace me in its jugged jaws. I'm not afraid, just tired. This flagella of torrid life, The gross garbage of man’s past, The insignificance of the insecure future. Time has no meaning. A hallucinogenic rhythm Of the quintessence of nothing. Bring on the rumbling war drums, Raise up the sharp guillotine's blade, Let the cacophony begin, Let me dance to no rhythm Of preconceived dreams. For since the beginning of time When humans invented drawings Of men killing men, and sang Songs resonating of rape and lust, Of slander, conquests and plunder. The day will come when we must Give an account of our misdeeds. We turn our backs on good and evil, We just don’t really care what happens To unfortunate beings, our neighbors. The writing is on the wall. The seer chants: the end is near. Yet something in me stirs. I refuse to let go. For look Not far away on this cold mountain Is a rainbow, way up high, As bluebirds happily fly on the other side Of the shimmering bewitching hues, A consequence of a prism of raindrops. One day, all our dreams become reality. Hope reigns again and all dreams come true.