CRITICA

There’s such a thing as making up lost time, 
Though you may never retrieve what’s really gone.
Still, you will have accepted what you cannot regain,
And not betrayed that early home,
Or the worth of what you once had.
The god that was there in everything.

Catch hold of those first times,
When the sun shone through the cloud,
And you saw beyond the fence. 
The hardest thing to accept is the other, 
That’s not like you, or is opposed, or wants you dead, 
When all you want to be is well disposed.

There’s a war going on, though we’ve heard about this
Only from afar,
It will come to our door, and we’ll have to choose
From what we least want, or can best survive, 
This secular prayer is to the Imaginary God, 
One who would have cared, were they actually there.  

Our species, drained of its life blood,
Fights to stay above the blinding flood.