When echoes from the clock’s tock hastened slowly
Without a corresponding tick in the chambers of memory,
Leaving only an aural appeal of melancholy
And imprints on the sands of time sang of implausible recovery-
Thus calling for a voluntarily conspicuous glimpse,
That’s when we stood on the sanctimonious overpass
With a hypocritical aberration on institutional collapse;
We refused to mention our created crass.
Our truth was farfetched: mouths spoke unexamined truths
Instead of speaking reasonable golden silence;
The heart knew nothing about our truths.
Truths spoken in the absence of conscience.
And we said: “We have found a new world!”
And that’s a peacekeeping lie we’d always held.
Go tell the children of grandchildren yet unborn:
“We have built a sun,”
When we are gone,
And that that sun was once a gun!
We have made the largest light.
Wishing on four leaf clovers: “We have made a sun”.
And that’s our truth.
Truth that quenched the greatest light!
But the second truth is what our children shall drink water on
When we’re long gone!
When our history books shall say we had made the sea also,
But ate it overnight.