History is us in funny clothes

No need the world of all the treasures
seas of blue nor wits of men
wind in sails dark sparkles when 
of losing it my soul had wept

Over flowing golden arches 
craving knowledge losing faith
when its hollow grappling fingers
of these bones that life once hath

Matter less the sands of Indies
brave new world Eden ahead
life, oh shelves of silver sorrows
cradle saw but brought the dead

Mills! the future churning ghastly
nature? Undefended child
paint it red don`t stand to listen
songs of virtue it will have

No need the world no need of treasure
blood of men and nature`s head
grace the glitter love the only
chariots of fire ahead

We are lost because we do not want to be found

Do we not have the answers? Did the past not teach us? Haven`t we been warned?

From blood being drawn out to shock therapy to endless modern and not so modern pharmaceuticals. We always felt the need to do something, always afraid to accept that we do not know what to do.

Wars for land, wars for gold, wars for oil, we can never get enough, the grass is always greener, the lamb is always fatter and the gold forever brighter. Discontent, covet, lust and desire filling our souls with the darkest of fires.

Find the way, go back to `69, forgive your past, forgive their past, enough is enough but it will never be if we do not recall it and we are not afraid of repeating it. Enough blood, stress and “MORE, I want more”.

“You still lack one thing. Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”