Who Calls the Tune?

Final Frontier ~ Philip Brent

Final Frontier ~ Philip Brent

Regardless how brilliant, how noble I believe my thought
Scorning how gracious, how grand I envision my dreams
Futility wraps them up, a cerement, as small minds  plot
Hate, fear, want, and murder shape their selfish schemes

I understand I can change the world, if just my little corner
So I strive to add beauty, truth, and to question and create
Self-censored, still the tragic terror of joyless news I garner
I fear my contribution adds too little, comes much too late

How then may I maintain my hope and not sink, succumb
Create, as truth is twisted, beauty buys mammon’s pleasure
How then dream when sunlight’s gone and night’s become
Where darkness weighs down all with a shroud’s pressure

When fear, bigotry, terror surround us and insanity is king
When we destroy, daily slip deeper into our own quagmire
Where deeds of greed, for fear, can kill the hopes we bring
As those who call this tune say it’s something they require

I yearn for the tipping point, even though I know I will fall
Driven to create, for sanity’s sake, I cannot ignore the call
Please think of me kindly, if a better future we should see
I did my best with what I had, though none heard my plea

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