Seasons

There's a time when gods descend to drink
When it's all silent for the cosmic breeze
to stride in royalness to the spirit river;
The spiritual bath they came for is forever

There's a time when the earth shall cry
Within
When the sobs will silence the sea's roar
For earth to tread begging a halt to this brawl
The hollowness in her belly can only burst a sigh

There's a time when all music will stop.
When man's inside shall refuse any ray
And grief of an orphan shall men embrace
Then man's panacea, a fluke, then a flop

There's a time when all things would be remedied
When refugee minds would be restored to normalcy
And the shiny bald head mad man would cease to be a panache
When the rights of the wrongs shall no more be swayed.