At The Crossroads

The Winds of liberty now whisper
And shall we, the undaunted fellows of gloom
Pick up the needy call that holds?
Or shall we continue the jumbled walk in our foolhardiness?
Shall the voices so revered,
Speak any wisdom to the rest of us?
Or shall we deify their folly
And trudge on, sure and holy….
…. Onto death’s very crux?
Need we such again ask?
When the icy hands eventually come to pat our backs.

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