By Martin Hanley
Now would be the time to listen, but you know you won’t; you can’t. Now would be the time to change, but you know you’ll smile; they’ll cry, he’ll rant. Now the past is present here and your future’s too soon denied. The sphere was never theirs to cube, a blood-red sun; my patience tried. They’ve seeded lies to fend off truths; awaiting darkness is now aligned. Your reasoning and will surrendered; strong feelings grab and occupy your mind. True seeds transform when sown to tell, a tale your conscience hides. The sons of men laid vacant bare; iconic as symbols that crossed your skies. For all those years you sat alone, avoiding the path that lay ahead. Now time awaits as the mighty derail, for nothing dies, we forever remain.