exposed as lying smoke;
sombre syllables of sullen clouds.
Once captured as an asset in their balance sheets
and silent wings of a smothered gull
Now its frozen tears are
Tokens from a midden
Once hidden, rising from the cutting,
Reminders of people we killed and dispossessed
To grab our wealth, however flimsy.
These ancestors abide.
the omnipresent might
of shiny purgatory pipes we dread
in oily arguments and given compensations
of discounted gasoline and games
forgetting melodies –
where did the world go wrong?
The collective skills of humankind –
Genius, curiosity, guile and conscience
distilled within these metal sluices,
syphoned to the pockets
of the few
The disconnect divides
Faith and faithless, believers, liars
High rise friars and broadcasts of promised immaculates
Clasp our hands, intertwined in wiring
Mouths open, eyes are closed
disguised by persuasions
inducing our passive acceptance,
resisting cultivation of enlightenment.
The sobering approval of flawed
arguments make us ask
Is there hope?
In Earth, beneath concrete,
Tiny tendrils insistently press,
Unseen, probe the weaknesses of lime, sand and stone,
And wedge verdant fingers into cracks.
We will emerge, as all
A collaborative triquain chain by @brudberg, @sleepingdingo, @troublegummer,@vivchook and @stair71. To be shared at dVerse Open Link Night today.