I lay me down in rolling green meadows with gentle streams flowing nearby. Tall, strong trees tower in the distance where birds sing their day song, and flowers are in full bloom. Azure sky canopies above me while soft clouds float in the sea of blue. Mountains lay silently on the far horizon, and I hear your voice whisper in the warm, soothing breeze.
Deer prance through the wood while squirrels scamper on the forest floor. Barely audible, angels sing as the tall, lush grass sways back and forth in rhythm. There is peace here. Complete serenity in place of the cacophony of the world left behind. Here your sovereignty is felt in absolute tranquility, where there is no room for fear.
The fresh scent of new life fills the air, wild and free, inviting, intoxicating. Majestic stallions gallop across the hillocks as luminescent spits frolic and play, and your joyful laughter rings in my ears. I smile. There is contentment here. There is rest, and my soul is refreshed. Here in this place I am the child once more, and this would be a dream except that it is so real.
Shrouded in doubt, clouded by deception, we wait for the reception
Of some new conception that will wipe away our tears and all fears,
Yet knowing that no selection in any election will lead to perfection;
Our destination is cremation of our nation to which we give nutation
Without thinking or even blinking; we just wink and nod and go on
About our business as usual, which is unusual for people in distress,
But why obsess over the inevitable, or impress with vain knowledge
When it’s easier to repress our feelings peeling away at our souls?
Here then is the conundrum of living in a dying kingdom with lying
Queen and bellicose autocrat vying to sit in the white tower of power:
What choice do people have with no voice, and over what to rejoice?
Ah! But most are intent to remain content, so long as they belong
To the games and the circus goes on with all silly gaffs and laughs
Without a thought that this happy show has been bought at the price
Of liberty by simplicity of trickery grown from the gross fertility
Of unchecked, wicked wizardry of those who hide in dark anonymity;
But will the simplicity of it all finally
Shine through the red, white and blue?
Will we see and refuse to bend the knee
To such insidious, political cruelty?
Are there better ways for brighter days?