“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period,…”— Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
The best of time is in your voice.
Worst? In the despot’s whisper
that slowly rises into a cyclone
bringing debris of faith in human kind.
Age of wisdom is in your eyes,
my haven. Foolishness?
In the resolve to extol self
while disparaging all to nothingness.
I dwell in your heart, my epoch of belief.
Incredulity? In springtime motifs
that’s etched in the lip service
of post-truth humans in power.
Your veracity is my season of light.
Darkness? It’s in the abyss of fury
where Lucifer is cloned in thousands
in the hands of the liars and abusers.
You are the spring of hope.
I’ve left the broad highway
to enter through your narrow gate
towards the bliss of your words.
Posted for Sanaa’s Prompt Nights – Come chase oh fleeting thoughts of the moment –  over @ A Dash Of Sunny
Shared with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United