MOONS

MOONS

Moons will fade, years will pass,
Proud horses will bite the dust.
Life will be old and I will die,
Losing my breath as all men must.

Silences will grow, wars will cry,
Violence will be hungry,
God will fill the sky.

Futures will call, the past will rust,
The earth will stagnate and men will trust.

All the answers will surrender
To the quiet of the times.
And all the poets will be in limbo,
Suffocating on their rhymes.

Masters will spit and slaves will sing,
And this world shall pass in a fiery ring.
And the dead shall rise and walk again,
Our enemies, our beloved friends.

Moons will fade, years will pass,
Cities, they will blaze and burn,
And each one shall succumb at last,
The final lessons taught and learned.

Moons will fade, years will pass,
The world shall turn to pixie dust,
UFOs will scorch the grass.
And the doubting Thomases shall trust

Silences will grow, wars will cry,
Violence will starve to death,
And God will fill the sky.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 1984
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED