I stumbled upon a young lady mesmerized by a peculiar design and its liquid reflections. The unsullied mind took its time to unravel the beautiful message carved in stone.
There was carnage on the news later that night. Mostly self inflicted, the rest dished out by a mistreated Nature. In the Chronicles of Doom, looks like, we’ve got our name printed in bold.
The way out will require no new plans, but a radically different way of reasoning. It can only be delivered by an inspired generation of free thinkers raised on ideals of Enlightened Humanity, the ones brought up to be creative, not productive. The youth of today.
We have to believe they will be the ones to save us. If they don’t, no prayer ever will.