Many more, many more

This Present Trouble

It starts subtly
Like a passing phase
It is a new level every day
A new endurance,
A new direction of the tide

Hope’s feathers perches
Then falls in the water, flows away
We wait again while training our skin
To be thick enough
And training our thoughts to pause

We thought times were bad
The tables weren’t rich
The crops were poor
The harvest was not smiling
And hope became hopeless

The former troubles
Cannot be compared to the evils of the day
It’s like a veil was finally removed
For the sun to scorch at its fullness
And beautiful moon withered away

Bose & LARDO