Whispers

You might say, “I long to chase this path, As far as it can go, to witness, feel and join, The adventures of the wanderers. I want to mimic them, and do as they do. To dance as they dance and cry when they cry. I want to see their sun of joy and pain, When it rises and sets. Their ways are trendy, They speak and allies thunder with ovation They appear and their peers cheer! The world knows their names I will endure no more solitude! Boredom gnaws my soul; I want to go now!” But heed me, friend, Can you flourish in this dance of shadows! Where humanity lies buried in the past? Behold! blood of innocent flows like a stream, In the hands of gannets who scour every corner To feed their greed, they loot and kill And drink the stranger’s wine They are vultures that feast on the dead The path swarms with scavengers, who brawls for your breath! A pack of wolves will prowl in scores, And shower you with flattery, even worship They will sway to your tune with glee But trap you in eternal bondage You’ll be their puppet on a string, Some will chatter your poverty And scorn your former clemency. Listen, my dear friend Stop staring at me, March on, you do not see the way, I know But march on! march through this fog of reality Open your ears wide, listen to the whispering voice To the faint utterance in the still wind Shun easy goings, my friend, The path is riddled with traps Dodge them and stride ahead You might finally enjoy, A taste of honey beyond joy, Living is no piece of cake!