Clear Skies
I held Ataraxis in my arms.
Ironically stressed beyond alarm.
The peasant mind outlives a King of Kings.
If not stabbed in the back, at a young age, a heart attack.
Well, she looked up at me with watery eyes
Wondering how to deal with the world's lies.
"Clear your mind, then consciously think.
Don't dwell on what you despise."
It's hard. With such a charred and marred civilization.
Barred from changing, held to keep up with tradition.
But, as with the early death of kings,
Traditional society becomes not so traditional.
And all your brain wants to do is dwell.
Dwell on where everything is going wrong.
Dwell on wishing the past wasn't gone.
Dwell on what the people you know have become.
You have to control your thoughts.
The drifting spaceship never goes back home.
But, the ship with a crew telling it where to go
At least has some direction, somewhere to begin.
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Droppin' knowledge since 1986.
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