and it struck me now..

..and the song played one last time,

and the bride danced to the rhyme,

and the fool wept over his last dime,

and it rained down at the climb,

and you felt the cold in your spine,

and it struck me all in my prime.

..and the illusion began a long time ago,

and the truth was lost in a shadow,

and now it threatens to land a heavy blow,

and the boat has lost its row,

and now I am the arrow, you’re the bow,

and it struck me now when I’ve lost the flow.

..and the feeling is new and not old,

and the greed is wild, but not too bold,

and the story is waiting to be told,

and the cowards are new, in an old mould,

and the strangle is strong, so is the hold,

and it struck me now, when I have no gold.

..and the war is over, but not the fight,

and the land is thirsty, but none can feel the plight,

and the sky is praying to see a kite,

and the window is open, but there’s no light,

and the child cries, as it tries to hold on tight,

and its struck me now that I’m the only knight.

..and now the book is filled with words and feeds

and the pages are confessing our deeds,

and the story is wound in some beads,

and the writing is bad, so are our needs,

and we may have lost the time to plant new seeds,

and the sun will set on this tale, on our weary pleads.