springtime skies

fearful of my red sky at morning
i cling to the hope of springtime skies
springtime skies that will forever provide
shelter from the crimson tides of desperation

so near in my view is a future of souls in mourning
under the realization of the negation of truth
forced to reform and pick up the pieces
that withered within the neglected creases
of hope once posed as a source of freedom
freedom from all of the paths not taken
though such paths seemed to often be ignorantly mistaken

so many questions of our future decisions
diffuse the potential possibilities ahead
and instead linger like dust coating the throat
of our world so desperately wanting to speak
wanting to speak on our daily actions
on our greed for our own daily bread
wanting to speak on our weary factions
and the impudous paths we impulsively tread

long ago were the days of harmony
the days of enduring respect
today we live in selfish disunity
the grounds of which often eclipse intellect
darkening the light waiting to be acknowledged
overshadowing the hope of my springtime skies