Natures dice, thrown in a trice,In a ... game of ... final score, is real shock and awe,And ... global ... ... seen by a ... in its cosy hole of choice
Natures dice, thrown in a trice, In a grotesque game of craps, Whose final score, is real shock and awe, And rewriting global maps. Political reputation, seen by a nation, Hiding in its cosy hole of choice, Who promises braille, whilst the real mail, is delivered via the peoples voice. And the aftermath is all in its path, Is gone in waste and grief, Why does it take disasters wake, To unite us all in relief. No discrimination here, just abject fear, No religion or class escapes unscathed, No riches or show cheat the undertow, All submerged beneath the waves. In modern times, our greatest crime, Is to have lost feelings and lost touch, It takes catastrophe, to make you with me, To make everyone into us. Faced with apocalypse our planes and ships, Seem meaningful when not at war, But as our memory of disaster slips, Will we revert to squabbling like before. Maybe we should try, to all get by, And harmonise more from this date, Who knows when next the globe is vexed, Who knows the twists of fate.
