Achambhit

Caravans of peace
They roll by
Not stopping for a minute
The gold dust runneth

A drum roll here
A trumpet there
Sounds of daily living
Everywhere

Escape to the mountains
Run fer the hills
But the streams are dry
Rocky mountain high

Glacial ice
Soft underfoot
A refuge
A karmageddon trek?

White birds at night
Confused
Chaos,
a brimming plight

Flying south
Flying west
Hark the center of the universe
A savage respite?

O Pandora
Close thy gory box
The end is nigh
And it’s still about the bull or the cock!

The chicken
It crosses the road
But man – he sits
Staring at the gaping wide hole.

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