Thus I Wrote

I feel insecure about many dark things
That I cannot understand or behold
I sense the wheel spin out of control
Things fall apart; the centre can’t hold;

I hold from slipping into darkness
I pray for security within the fold
But I feel the balance slipping
Things fall apart; the centre can’t hold

The falcon now looks lost
In the storm clouds and the cold
Will ignorant intensity trump conviction?
Things fall apart; the centre can’t hold

I think much of the future
I think much of fruits that are old
The wheel spins to screaming
Things fall apart; the centre can’t hold

For the needs of the many
The needs of the few are sold
Within blind evolution I seek control
Things fall apart; the centre can’t hold

But when everything is slipping
And in the storm I am wet and cold
I remember sometimes things fall apart
So better things may fall together and hold