PRISONER OF TIME 2 © 2008

They amuse reason,

Like a child with a new toy,

In a futile game, without direction,

Where thought wanders in vain.

An occasional toy,

Bright but hollow inside,

That distracts the mind from its true mission,

Diverting it from what is essential and central.

Reason, deceived, follows the rhythm,

Not realising it is just a pastime,

While truths, in a quiet corner,

Wait patiently for their moment.

But false brilliance does not last,

And the toy, sooner or later, breaks,

Leaving reason bare, without cover,

Confronting the reality that is celebrated.

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Play

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