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.

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

 far greater

than ever foretold.

J. Allen Wilson © 2005