Jamie, 2004.
© Copyright Libitina 2006.

In the calm before the storm breaks,
In the hour each minute seems to take,
Feeling it to have all gone wrong,
Aware that there’s nothing to be done,
We see that, as mere pawns of fate,
This doomed path we can but take,
Knowing that this day cannot be won,
And, in dread, it must be met head on.

Alea iacta est, the die is cast,
It seems a time of peace can never last,
Just so- the seeds of discord are sown
And our lives into conflict are thrown.

Undeterred we rush towards destruction,
Bound for an unsought conclusion,
Impelled by events beyond control
Of weak humankind and mortal souls,
While I did not want this, nor did you,
A mist falls that’s hard to see through,
We take a path misguided and unknown
To mutual loss and kinship undone.

Alea iacta est, the die is cast,
It seems a time of peace can never last,
Just so- the seeds of discord are sown
And our lives into conflict are thrown.

Man an island made by his own hands,
Lost to the shifting of his need’s demands,
Of changing boundaries we are never sure,
And yet by constant loss we are inured
To the pain we could else not stand
And to our lives is weaved a new strand,
A solace each time found to suture
A gaping wound thought beyond cure.

Alea iacta est, the die is cast,
It seems a time of peace can never last,
Just so- the seeds of discord are sown
And our lives into conflict are thrown.