Let The Game Begin
Blind and hasty thoughts of deception
Are built across vast chasms of vile indiscretion
Complete and whole in their monotone view,
Of what is right, of what is wrong
With the likes of me and you.
With this world fettered so on blind mistrust,
Who is to dare say what is truly fair and just.
Should this, or that hedge the coming day,
Or should the secrets of valiant truths be held at bay?
Shall cities crumble beneath some incredulous façade?
Or is it true that some think of themselves a little higher than they think of God?
Or shall they just whittle away their time with some ambiguous score
And fail to recognize the sound made with the closing of a door?
All this they say in which to portend
we all shall come to the same end.
Be it sinner or saint
Small or great,
The end is precisely what it means…
The end of deception
The end of indirections
The end of hate
The end of shame
The end of all that is wicked and old
and the beginning of something new.
For in the end,
A new game begins
With mysteries revealed
than ever foretold.
J. Allen Wilson © 2005