Sunday, August 1

When I look out upon the world, I see
starving supplicants in misery,
bejeweled fingers grasping for more,
wealth than they ever dared to before.
Signs of epochal shifts of time and space
signs of the genesis of a hyperborean race.
Growing multitudes of illiterate people
flocked together at an idol or church steeple.
I do not see
men of individuality,
men of truth, courage and will;
gone are they who contribute and fulfill
mankind's duty to knowledge and desire
to learn the inherent secrets of fire.

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