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Weather The Storm
Our city's foundation - the bricklayers job
To safeguard the man and the mob from the mob
The violent, the furtive, the wasteful, the crass
Weather the storm, the storm will pass
Hide and abide by the rule of the clan
And the policies made by the kings of man
By the stocks and the whips and the chain and the farce
Weather the storm, the storm will pass
From the gaze of the twisted and frauds, be sure
You bolt down your windows, you lock up your doors
Wait for the gauntleted sword to swing past
Weather the storm, the storm will pass
You know the squalls calming, the culprits exposed
by a new air you'd heard some experts proposed
Southerly storms and high pressure bars
Possible flooding, riotous winds
Collapsing towers, hurtling cars
Walls of granite, gates of brass
Doors of oak and bars of iron
Covering the window glass
Will weather the storm til the storm will pass
In fifty years, will I instate
My peace, or will it be too late?
In time that's spent, is anger asked
To savour calms that never last?
In a drying day in a drip in time
When the bolts have fled to a cleaner clime
When you emerge from your shelter, at last
The skies are still - your life has passed
poem
by
Tanathica
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