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Darkness fills the hearts of many a tortured soul,
Hatred too indulgent engulfs the mind.
Dense consciousness fills the abysmal gulf of mortal minds,
And luminous passion erupts into explosive thought.
Vast barriers forming between the Brotherhood of man,
Children of a greater unknown.
A mother's heart aching to hold her son,
Gone to a bloody war in a far off province or land.
The world of humanity, forced to take sides,
Devour the glimmer of a ripple in the sea of peace,
Holds onto the unimaginable cancer of revenge;
And the pitiless image of slaughter and death.
Shallow thinkers inflame the little mind.
Spurned is the Sentinel of Peace.
Rage knows no true judgement,
Whilst sorrow blackens the heart.
A Holocaust looms in the shadows of Cosmic Light.
Ominous clouds gathering around limited horizons.
Drunk with excitement, they vent their rage,
And deny the spirit in a mindless void.
A mirage, glimmering on the ghost of hope,
Impregnates the embryo with the seed of ignorance.
Torn flesh, shattered bones, blood and pain
Become the symbol of an unattainable greatness.
Unconscious forms inspire them to fervent terror.
Ignorant of Karma and the immortality of the soul.
Imperfection drives them to suffer,
To slaughter, fight and devour the radiant Light.
Dark minds burdened by hate,
Seek revenge in the tunnels of pain.
Burdened by the weight of a dubious glory,
They gaze upon the enemy of joy.
Atomic look, lurking in the wings of doom,
Aroused by the ignorant fervour of time.
Leaders, fortify their mortal worlds
And march to the beat of an unspeakable act.
Souls prepare their journey to an unknown reality;
Bound for suffering on an unimaginable scale.
Cosmic hierarchies, watch from above,
Prepare their fate and mete out their due.
O Sentient Being, only you know what is ahead.
Is the future already in the past?
In the greater scheme of things, Where do I fit in?
Or the Lightworker's mission complete?
Great thinkers, silent in the mystic world,
Inspire the burdened with remoulded thoughts.
Replace the fire of hatred with the fire of Light
And enrich the mind with transcendent sight.
Violence calmed by a mystic power,
Dances to the heartbeat of a stupendous will.
Illuminates the earth with a lucent haze,
Shining upon formidable opponents of evil.
Incommunicable by words of mortal flesh,
We whisper our invincible act.
Immortal souls from mortal wombs,
Perform absolute brilliance to the Cosmic dance.
Apathy, jolted by treacherous adversity,
Follow cycles through the corridors of time.
Black inertia temporarily darkens the spirit flame
And secret strengths muster their splendour.
Listen to one who knows the way,
An inert power of boundless change.
Enchanted by a down pouring of Cosmic Light,
Illuminated by a Universal Truth.
Climb the highest peaks, wrenched from tortured breasts.
Mend the gulf that has formed between us:
Banish the hurt that engulfs the heart.
And heal the pain that has been caused by revenge.
The Great Golden Dawn is nigh upon us.
Tis the time right now to prepare.
No Cosmic outpouring will occur
With blood spilling everywhere.
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Asian Tsunami
December 26 2004 |
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With great force it came upon them,
Crashing, dragging, ripping and tearing
At everything lying in its path.
A tranquil and beautiful place, laid waste.
Then, as if not satisfied with its deadly plan,
It raged down again to take what it had first missed.
Not discriminating between rich or poor,
The age of its victims, irrelevant.
Blood-curdling screams, groans and moans
Could be heard by those that survived.
Memories etched with horrendous stress
The mind could never invent, nor visualize.
For those lives spared, worse was to come.
The stench of rotting bodies, bloated in the sun.
Thousands now homeless, anguish in hunger;
Alone, frightened, their future unknown.
Despair, lost family and friends, no hope at all.
The victims can only cry.
Mothers anguished, looking for children,
Fathers searching the morgues.
Then a glimmer of hope comes to them,
As the aid workers at last arrive.
Bringing medicines, food, hope and love.
Their new lives emerge, tragic, harsh, but worthwhile.
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The Plight of the Sudanese
By Sandra E Barlow |
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Tired, worn and bedraggled they come,
Across the border of Chad.
Mainly women and children, some just born,
Struggling to survive.
Uprooted by the millions,
Black Africans of Darfur land,
They flee the Janjaweed militiamen,
In cataclyctic revenge.
Sorrow and fear fill their hearts,
Cold as the desert nights.
Their agony, memories, and psychological scars,
Of live babies thrown into fires.
A humanitarian catastrophe,
A tragedy, genocide.
Such atrocities are beyond belief.
No future, no pride.
Who, in your cosy houses cares,
What's going on in Sudan?
Could you survive starvation, torture and fear
As part of your daily fun?
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Yes, I Did Have My Baby Girl
By Sandra E Barlow |
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For three years I dreamed of having a baby,
I prepared for this in every way,
Every man who paid me attention, I thought "Maybe,
This is the one I will conceive with one day.
I bought a cradle in Thailand before I left.
Planned a natural birth.
Leaving my husband and gibbon, I felt bereft
Of the things familiar, loved, possessions of worth.
Back in Australia, things weren't the same.
New friends had to be made,
And a new life with a new name.
Plans for my future had to be laid.
I met him in December of '76.
A strange and silent boy who stared.
He carried a violin, a teepee and sticks;
A nomad in a city, gypsy, urban reared.
The winds of fate blew us together,
They also blew us apart.
Three years we stayed together,
Until I realized he had no heart.
Yes, I did have my baby girl,
She's beautiful, independent and strong.
She is nothing like me, nor like him.
She's the breath in every song.
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