Tuesday, July 22

The pipeline and the mirror

~Hear me o reader /And read with mind open/For minds can see what eyes cannot/Within words unspoken/And as step you on either side/Two worlds they form and shall arise/Paths for you to choose among/If wise enough for more than one/See it clear and free your sky/Concentrate and watch the PIPE~

I see dissolutions in destitution | I see resolutions in revolution
I see hatred and pain, inside a wounded brother | I see faith and trust, I see hope in the eyes, of yet another
I see the sun burn another sky away | I see a sun rise with a brand new day
I see bomb shelters and bases, and concrete forts | I see the world as a dream of sorts
I see an empty grave, and in it, my destiny |
I see an illusion, and in it I see harmony
I see wounded soldiers, and dead men on their shoulders | I see doves of peace, nesting on boulders
I see submarines diving, under the sea | I see tangerines, hanging on their trees
I see an old man, fighting for his life | I see a newborn yawn as it opens its eyes
I see secrets, buried behind shadows | I see The Northern Lights hide within their glow
I see ignorance, and I see greed | I see purity, plant its seed
I see a hand for a hand, an arm for an arm | I see them hand in hand, arm in arm
I see nightmares, that taunt me forever | I see reflections of a better era
I see frowns, and in them sorrow | I see hopes, and in them tomorrow
I see deception hide, behind plastic shrouds | I see mist and fog, within the clouds
I see TNT, in a barrel of steel | I see rosemaries, where the children kneel
I see jets and bombers in a war gone gory | I see blessed birds with feathers, sing their story
I hear bullets and gunfire, in an orchestra of gore | I hear the laughter young, the breeze flow along a symphony's score
I see pain in a world of scars | I see comets racing behind stars
I see the history of sorrow in every yesterday | I see the mystery of tomorrow in every other day
I see death arriving on my doorstep soon | I see my soul jump over the moon
I see guilt in every innocent face | I see an orchestra, inside a bass
I see nothing, and yet I see all | I am you, I am me, I am. I just am.

~To one who smart enough be/The | shall show the way to see/More than vertical line t'is/And serve it shall Its purpose there, An innuendo of sorts/ Vertical coin amiss~