Astrologer’s Key

 
 
 
 
The future descends
from fear-embroidered skies.
A vision of holocaust — when everybody dies.
A new day is dawning, but is it sun or storm?
We have a chance to make our mark,
but is it right or wrong?
The military marches,
the anti-warriors too.
We take our stand in battle,
the many and the few.
Spinning tales of magic, of wizardry and fate;
we want to know just how it ends before it’s all too late.
We sing our song too late.
We right our wrongs too late.
We want to know the date.
To find a better fate.
 
Can I tell you?
Can I help you to understand?
Can I utter words of prophecy that will make you see?
Standing here before you, I want to take your hand
to swirl up into a magical dancing,
divine worlds of beauty entrancing,
to give you the will and wonder to set you free.
Can you see me?
.
.
.
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