Listening to Los Incas

Listening to Los Incas
Poet panpipes
Take me away
To the High Andes…

To another time
Another place…
Where imagined goodness
May have reigned

But no, where’er we look
Blood and the business of life
Bursting bounds of
So called civilisation

We must peer into the heart of
The Matter, where we lie
On our altars, awaiting death
To rebirth, our hearts askew

Many ways to make atonement
Sacrifice but the earth will outreach us
A few of us left to tell the tale
At least we tried

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