Games

poem by: John Prophet
Written on Nov 27, 2021 

Games.
The game,
it is
a foot.
Puppet
Masters
showing
their hand.
Spinning
orb under
siege.
What
once was
disturbed,
disrupted.
Shaking,
cracking
foundations.
Different.
Minds
muddled,
confusion
reigns.
Pulsing,
manipulating
generations.
Linked.
Linked to
a new
horizon.
One generated
in a different
realm.
Unscrupulous.
Unexpected
chaos.
Chaos
on a
global
scale.
Change agents
plying the
clouds.
Coming,
evolving faster.
Faster than
counter
adjustments.
What
follows,
unfathomable.

 

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