‘Tis but the hand
Of skeptics,
Would impart
Their cryptic seed,
That germinates
Its sorry feed,
Said instigates
Worn pessimism,
While in the face
Of man’s betrayal,
Stirs cynics wide
That so impedes
Ones trust naïve,
Thus to deride
Man’s consciousness
Of earth’s demise,
Who callous to amends
Suffers life’s fleeting bide!
‘Tis but the hand
Of skepticism,
Politicos impart
The cryptic seed,
Which germinates
Its sorry feed
That instigates
Such pessimism,
While in the face
Of their betrayal
Cynicism flies,
To force impede
Inertia’s deed,
Chose let slide
Our trust naïve,
Turns to deride
Their legacy,
Now earth’s peril
Would see it turn
To lifeless dust,
Before the end
Of meager ride
Life did provide!
