When is all said and done ?
Is it when all the words
In a thousand dictionaries
Mangled beyond comprehension
To create tension
At the highest levels of intention
Or do we talk ourselves
Back into a corner
And rely on action
Or a fraction
Of commonsense and abstraction
Or does the inaction
Instead drive us to distraction
By a faction
Or is it fiction ?
Amongst the jibber-jabber the jabberwocky roams
Amongst the plain and desert of jawbones
And remnants of high and mighty speeches littered everywhere
In this dipsomatic jungle
Populated by the extinct diplomat
Over yonder, a seemingly sulphurous scent
Sits sweetly, surrounding skulls smashed senseless.
Sadly no-one is left to speak sweet words of sorrow sensibly.
And that is sad.
But in the small lake of blood and tears
Lies an angel
Is it a mirage, a fake ?
Our hope it does not take….