Where is the silence, that sweet serenade,
to bring me some peace, with a soft calming air,
to heal me, to soothe me; a sun-dappled glade,
where gentleness sits in an old rocking chair,
for long is the journey, the path hard to find,
shaded by shadows, illusions of light,
this stumbling forward, this walk of the blind,
endlessly seeking a way towards sight,
in lands full of troubles that fall like the rain,
and flow by black streams to plutonium seas,
while we struggle, alone, with Time’s heavy chain,
each of us damned by the loss of the keys,
but I’m tired of asking, the asking a plea,
for silence, for peace, some rest for my head,
so to hell with it all, I’m up for some tea,
or whisky, or stronger, to ward off the dead.
One Voyce of the World 
Reblogged this on The Winstanley Gazette.
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This post wiped out my operating system.. just kidding. Love it
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thank you
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Since I posted your article yesterday I also have not been able to access messages or notifications on Facebook, and have not been able to comment on other people’s threads. I can still post, but that is all.
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oh boy, I am sorry about that-seems they don’t want that one going around-so much for freedom of speech, “human rights”. etc etc. Same for me still, can post but that’s it. Can only shake my head in despair. take care
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