My life is like a puzzle
That never has been solved,
And yet will never be;
Some pieces have dissolved.
Our lives are set before us;
For for us they were made.
Independence will continue
With seven rules obeyed.
Nothing is that was before,
Could be less or could be more.
Truth turns slowly to ignore,
Our freedom soon becomes our chore.
Those pieces that did disappear
They trade as coin and token.
Bits of life I did forget
Return in dreams still broken.
Though first we fought such fearless fights,
We do not, in truth, recall
Those seven laws that guard our rights
Or life before the fall.
This is what is, what was before?
Was it less or was it more?
What’s true has changed, still we ignore
That freedom has become our chore.
The fear has fallen from my eyes,
No fight left in my bones.
I now don’t care if truth and lies
Lie with more unknowns.
We cannot discern what we can see
It makes not any sense
Our lives, made for us, are to be
For Manor now and hence.
Nothing shows how much we gave.
Not more, but less can we now save.
The ignorant do seem so brave.
Should truth set free, lies then enslave
|
Email this Poetry
|
Add to reading list





