Old Truths

No time like present to blot out the past Old truths abandoned, the old truths that last Gross in complacencies of bought and sold The heart is still beating, but the heart’s grown cold Oh! That creation could bathe in delight Until that sweet moment, I’m fettered in night The peace that I long for is lifetime away It screeches like bagpipes, like chaos at play The curtains are closing; the night bird’s awake How brief is perfection, how quickly we break Yamin, raise your voice for the gentle and meek Teach the world how to listen, then how to speak