When you wake in the morning the story begins
You’d like it to stop, but father time wins
The questions remain, of what’s going on
But no one replies, the answers are none
You live in a dream of what life could be
And dwell in a land that you thought to be free
You hope for a time when things will be right
But something has poisoned your spiritual sight
You ask for advice from those who don’t know
And don’t realise that it should be your show
Whilst you try to decide what’s right and what’s wrong
The ‘pre-chosen’ leaders just sing their own song
They ask you to follow their well laid out path
Promising peace in the great aftermath
Just join the believers they’ve already fooled
Give up thoughts of freedom, agree to be ruled!
Put trust in the news spewed out in your room
Believe they are fighting a virus of doom
Trust that their ‘experts’ should guide every move
Don’t ever consider the claims they don’t prove
They like you to think that the world is ‘their’ place
And dependant on them, is the whole human race
But who of us asked them to take up the reigns?
Who gave them authority, supporting their claims?
The pressure is on now, as it comes to the crunch
Are you going to bow, or are you going to punch?
As they tighten the chains around your free will
By offering potions in needles, they fill
Has all humanity, now lost its voice?
Or does it remember, it still has a choice?
I’d like to believe we’ll awaken as ‘one’
But if we stay sleeping, the chance will be gone
© Steve Bentley