The Towers Are Tembling
The towers are trembling in this twilight age
And poets dare not sit apart and brood
Nor meditate too long by lake or wood,
With such a flood of terror to assuage,
When cynicism screams from every page,
And truths are twisted or misunderstood;
Now is too late for peaceful interlude;
The meek are silent as the tyrants rage.
Some one must always break the trail and be
The first to face a challenge and disclose
The contours of the future, and propose
Solutions to our deep anxiety.
This is the day for poets to be brave
When there is all to lose or all to save.
A Brighter Coin
Are born, not paid,
The cynics say; perhaps
We do not seek the same rewards