fool's fate

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In that last dance of chances
I shall partner you no more.
I shall watch another turn you
As you move across the floor.

In that last dance of chances
When I bid your life goodbye
I will hope she treats you kindly.
I will hope you learn to fly.

In that last dance of chances
When I know you’ll not be mine
I will let you go with longing
And the hope that you’ll be fine.

In that last dance of chances
We shall know each other’s minds.
We shall part with our regrets
When the tie no longer binds.

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Men belong to the world

You think to arrange the world to your liking. So you map the band and draw lines across it, claiming ownership simply because you can draw a picture of it. The plants that grow and the beast that rove, you mark as your own, claiming not only what lives today, but what might grow tomorrow, to do with as you please. Then, in your conceit and aggression, you wage wars and slay one another over the lines you have imagined on the world’s face.

Name it as you will, claim it as you will, the world does not belong to men. Men belong to the world.