Light has set apace
Bright in stumbling grace,
Without meaning, bereft of guile,
Without having to stop, and start,
And stop again for a while.
This power serves the person
With the presence of luxury,
And the colour of the world's blood.
The switch is on; the respirator keeps pumping,
But the generations bend where the battery ends;
Conflict begins when the lighting runs dim-
At once there is power. Rejuvenation-
Passive energy ends the cycle
Lending comfort to a certain population.
Poetry » Politics Rated: K+, English, Words: 83, Published: 10/1/2005