When our empty world spins silently <br />black rains will wash the sky <br />and the sun will shine ferociously <br />upon seas that have boiled dry. <br /> <br />Those hopes and dreams of yesterday <br />float lost upon the breeze <br />and carved out names on summer days <br />will adorn the fallen trees. <br /> <br />When the Gods outnumber worshippers <br />whose battles have been done, <br />It will be too late to ponder then <br />just exactly what they'd won. <br /> <br />No poets then to scar the page <br />to tell of loves gone by, <br />or write those final epitaphs <br />from inkwells long run dry. <br /> <br />No more will ugly minds disgrace <br />when the power games have ended, <br />just Earth back to the Universe <br />as nature had intended.<br /><br />Neil Graham Marsden<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-certain-silence/
