In Vanity

Nearly an hour has passed since
I took this pen
and this paper.


The man told the world, "If you want to be a writer..."
_________________


Greatness relies on what?
I don't know. I'll let you know when I do.
No - I'll already be known to you by then.


Not in vanity, but in desperation.


That's the vanity - to be eternal in a lonely, unloving Universe (the clouds that blow down...)


Infinite themes to tie together that one man, or billions,
as I now see, can relate them all.


Oppressed or repressed? The people do it to themselves.
Without a unified theme or mindless pride,
the peoples' masses don't need to be surpressed.
The fear isn't of suppression, it's of unity and compromise.
That their love won't be of all.


Now - the hour of dawn.
Now or never, with not enough faith?
Never.


The fields are so dry;
the air is so dry;
the hills are so dry,
that life may never grow.


The clouds that blow down from the mountain,
bring neither rain nor snow.
Going down into a never ending Fall.
It doesn't snow, but it's not quite warm .