a Prophets Lament

A bat of an eyelid
A drop of a hat
Mankinds existence
Has been relatively brief
Mankinds influence
Has been beyond belief
And brought much grief
Mere ripples in the seas of time
How come then, so sublime?
This new millennium beckons
With futuristic contemplations
Of mass poverty, and starvation
Nuclear war, and over populations
Reality looks grim
Mankinds chance now look slim
But what hope, or chance?
Evergreen possibilities
With limited perception
As nightmares become a reality
There is little foresight
Other than the poetry of contemplation
Sensibility lies constipated
Political noises, with empty voices
As the majority, scream in silence
If mankind be judged by its actions
And not his words
Words reknowned for their weakness
The hope for this millennium
At one with the absurd
Lies overcast
With impending bleakness