Nostalgia
Will this world be the same after we are dead?
Will the bylanes and kerbs be replaced
Dusty pathways by cleaner, wider roads
And the poor, homeless ones to alien hordes
Will the sun rise and set the same old way
On these celibate lands that rain has just wet
Will colorful bows pop out of wholesome greens
Or will all fade into the polluted brink of our sins
Will there still be separate Gods for these men
Who believe their Gods made them different
Will their prayers still hold gaudy puritanism
Or will they kill each other on peaceful reserve
Will they laugh and laud like their usual banter
Or will times impose a more courteous manner
Will there be unreasoned madness and romance
Or will these grow unfashionable, get advanced
Will they resort to freedom in the clink of shackles
Or line their souls against the comfort of fables
Will the winds still haul the sails and blow the mills
Will the waters rise and ebb, or flood these hills
Will the kings fall on knees or fight the titans
Will the tales come true or more secrets be spun
Will devil consume us or will the angels be killed
Will governments do good or will they turn evil
Finally, if I come back home, aeons after my death
Will I find it's grace and comfort bequeathed
Or will it all, just like me, disappear into oblivion
Hope the yearning for past remains in times beyond!
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