Always burning away the lies,
As the games that people play,
Bypass the fog of many a reality
In spite of the merciless onslaught,
The frantic pace will still continue,
Peppered with moments of cold pity
As well as stepping stones of irony
Some say the winds blow in change,
Yet the boulders of stubbornness
Destroy the house of every just age
In the feral landscapes of ambition
Does the quest for new hope grow
With the slaying of old pestilence?
And under the blind spots of misery,
Will the world's cup always overflow?
J.Bibi
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