A New Order: (Dark Sonnet)

A dry wind sweeps across the soul's desert, As modern sensibilities fade like So many empty dreams. New flags assert Themselves. They're eerie and intensely bright. They resurrect old, stifling, tribal ways. They are held tightly in clenched fists of rage That punch holes through grey, monotonous days. Like before, tyrants will march through the haze Of Time blindly. O long have I studied The absurdities of this wayward world, And too often, the Light has been buried! Too many distractions prevent the Word From being heard. The pure pools of silence Are always disturbed by senseless violence.