Kolor


Somehow I knew,
that somewhere deep,
sand deep in ocean blue,
that the enemy of me
was the enemy in you.

Try and turn the tide,
and wash the murky
from your waters, but
the Ocean is what it wills,
a natural ebb and flow

of color. White only appears
as the wave kisses the shore,
a lovely glitter in a lovelier
canvas that cannot be undone.
Nature cannot be fought.

The Shift

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I’m no expert on the rules
that govern tectonic shifts,
the rumblings of which are
felt by all and none.

I’m no hero that comes to
defend the masses, or rather,
comes to defend even one, for
I am afraid of all and none.

But whether or not I understand
or defend, the ground rumbles
and vibrations shiver beneath
our feat, planted firmly

and yet unstable. Desert people
can smell an earthquake from
miles away, the winds of change
stoking fires in our senses.

Escape is not promised, it is but
a chance, a coincidence, brushing
an insignificant few who can walk
through fire and fault lines.

Wołności

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Watch the ebb and flow
the outrage come and go.

So easily we give yet more.
Just a bit, we let it go.

So when they come around
again, hands out and asking,

we slip out a little more
just a bit, we let it go.

Initial anger, then apathy.
Outrage, followed by release.

Why fight? It’s not so bad.
Why leave? Where’s the honor?

Quickly dissent becomes assent,
no one stands their ground for long.

Cowards in the cave, all warm,
for comfort they’d let it all go.

Watch the ebb and flow
the outrage come and go.