“All the worlds’ a stage,” the spear that Shakes has said,
And in this time of questioning, we’re all but in our heads.
These times are ripe, and these times are few,
This time of great questioning, as we cast them askew.
And all laid out before us, these questions oft implore us,
On just what we are here to do.
Are we progressing forward?
Advancing?
Evolving?
Or have we indeed found ourselves in a stew?
The question, it seems, comes to legal extremes,
as they’ve pirated this snake factor in.
Legal or not, they won’t be had nor bought,
rather suppressing the people within.
They come around but once a cent, sometimes even more,
and oft for “facts” from the legal gents,
but this time they’ve been had by a whore.
The chess board was seized when somebody sneezed,
and it hasn’t been the same since.
The queen is appeased, while the people are squeezed to a crippling grip of unrest.
But this time it’s different with the spirit entwined,
A strength from a LOVE so Pure and Divine.
As we open ourselves to what We’ve Come To,
Those old familiar memories, where we know just what to do.
The Answers, This Time, All Come From Within,
And these “puppetful masters” can NO longer win.
Xiola Rose Moon 