The Shepherd. A poem which sums up the situation of the world, from one of our readers

Euro Weekly News has been lucky enough to receive yet another poem from one of our lovely readers! Today we share with you a very momentous poem written by Wendy Craddock’s son…

The Shepherd.
Tick tock, tick tock goes humanities clock,
what you think is important perhaps it is not.
Eyes wide open or eyes sealed shut,
the path of our future is about to be cut.
In the sky’s up above and on earth down below,
all around us is cast its long dark shadow.
An unprecedented storm created to perfection,
all in the guise of deflection and deception.
The magician shows the hand he wants you to see,
as the shepherd lies in wait to take your fleece
and to flee.

A deadly derivative of debt and of greed,
swept through humanity who we struggle to feed.
The pyramid crumbled for all to see,
but nobody watched an event that was free.
The slave & the child by whom our world is built, are hidden
from plain sight so we don’t feel the guilt.
Which news is fake and who controls the illusion?
A drip-feed begins to spread more confusion.
A red coins code controlled by its nation?
A train that will never depart from its station.

Where we head now is too big to control,
the rumour of war will no doubt take its toll.
The end of the ‘MAD’ era is a reality now,
A cowboy’s dream on hold until we knew how.
Surrender yourself to the ‘free’ world state,
where everyone eats from the very same plate.
Stones in a field laid out an agenda,
does sickness and medicine ensure you surrender?
The musky odour that is linking our ‘stars’,
is mapping out pathways to the brain and to Mars.

An AI world filled with wonder and awe,
Is this really the future we are heading for?
Continuation of humanity will always be the goal,
no matter how great the burden or how heavy the toll.
Reach out for the stars to ensure our survival,
humanities consumption is not our only rival.
A species with amnesia is what we really are,
As we hide away the fragility of a not so distant past.
Our hope is wrapped tightly by our mortality fears,
then along comes the shepherd holding his shears.

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