Though time may fell the works of mighty kings,
And fate erase the lineage of men;
Some higher voice from blackened ash may sing,
To weigh our sins and shape the world again.
What shall they say of our intemperate flame,
Of passion loosed where reason should have reigned?
Of pride and prejudice that burned a world in shame,
And left behind a searing, scorched terrain.
Perhaps with hindsight, they’ll attain more grace,
And from the wreckage inscribe a nobler law—
That tempered will leads to a kinder place
And future kin regard the earth in awe.
May God ordain the very path they seek—
A world destroyed, leaves nothing for the meek.

©Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.