A
rampant world of rampage
its
colors undefined
reveals
a cryptic puzzle
of
a lost and unknown time.
Of
things not understood
of
things not ever known
of
this strange voracious plunder
we
have cast upon our own.
so
we come upon the nighttime
to
our darkest hour yet,
this
time is passing swiftly
this
time we will regret.
You'll
see the hours numbered
but
the darkness makes us blind
the
reality of a dream,
a
thought to leave behind.
The
reverse of reality
its
all we seem to see
the
color of our lives
the
way we want to be
yet
if a solitary soul
could
one day take a stand
this
world would change forever
with
faith the night will end.
Rainbough
Bouchard
copyright
1998