The Beginning (2022-2023)


Many months came and went,
tons of money has been spent.
Looking for the day you'll see,
your soon-to-be hard earned degree.

Work that took many an hour,
sometimes in darkness without the power.
But through unforeseen plight,
came times that still shed new light.

Soon is the day it would seem,
your reality's what was in your dreams.
Despite this outcome being expectations,
it still greatly calls for congratulations!

Four Doors

Four paths you could take,
all open doors, possible mistake.
Your choice makes the difference,
or it can lead to your sufferance.

Upon your decided entrance,
is a somewhat notable resemblance:
what there is to see,
possibly is not all that be.

A sound catches your attention,
one you'd remember at any mention.
You make your choice: an easy one.
But will you regret it a ton?

As you start to approach,
there is a great call of reproach.
But to the voice, you try to take a gaze,
as the three other doors go ablaze.

In the door's realm, it shuts behind,
a small space, you have been confined.
But you have found the way,
to see yet another day.

Many decisions are to make,
So many things that can break.
For what is the world without all,
if it cannot cause you to fall?

On the outside, there is all grey,
and the people around, in dismay.
The hope they had for better time,
was once a feeling so sublime.

The doors all lead to one place:
A city somewhere in the space.
Where there is nothing else to shew,
nothing more to ever know.

Eternal walking for all time,
same for all those past their prime.
Another stuck behind the door.
Possibly, forevermore.

Then in the distance you see:
The way out in front of thee.
Another door appears in flame,
alas, none there to point the blame.

What lies behind is not your worry:
all that inhabit remain sorry.
But they all say the world will change,
though doing so to them is strange.

At last the flames subside,
and truth, you must abide.
You bid the world a last farewell,
the place you soon will cease to dwell.

A man stops you: "Before you go,
The door, I won't wish on my foe!"
Upon hearing him, you turn around:
it is who you heard: who made that sound.

"Entering ensures the cycle,
from which there may be no revival.
Hence, your one true grave mistake:
is the four doors, for goodness' sake!"

The stranger, with such a pull,
hath just now saved your very soul.
For all that was bad in the city:
may just be figment of your self-pity.

Your thoughts make you want to look,
unsure what made the man so shook.
Inside you think what choice to make,
about the four paths that you could take.

The Journey of the Falcon

Witness the one falcon,
And how high she had flied,
Past this wasteland, barren,
Remains of all that died,
Her goal is one within,
In a new world so wide.

For some time, perched on stone,
Journey's taken no toll,
No damage ever shone,
Though none knew not in whole,
Back in air, as if blown,
But she is in control.

At last, she goes to land,
Without a bit of doubt,
No soul to give commands,
Which she can go without,
No more evil demands,
From which she's made it out.

The Bog Fire

Carbon pours from the peatland set ablaze,
mega-fires that fill the air with haze.
Greatly speeding the Earth's global warming,
with biomass, as its fuel, all burning.

As the fires continue to burn bright,
it seems that there will be no end in sight.
The water shortage from a severe drought,
caused the fire crews to need to pull out.

The flames die down, but there is still smolder,
till the fuel runs out, and it gets colder.
The ancient peat may have come to an end,
but work's been started to attempt to mend.

The Path

Nobody has been there,
or, they had not returned.
The truth, she is aware,
but still, she's unconcerned.

Everything seemed lifeless,
more or less eerily.
Then, it became skyless,
with great hostility.

But, on the other side,
she would never have thought.
Getting through, many tried,
despite lies they've been taught.

The Waiting

Eternity to wait,
for him to some day heal,
deciding the move date,
his wish becoming real.

Not to leave those behind,
who helped along the way,
and it has been cosigned,
the future changed that day.

Many months came and went,
tons of time has been spent.
Waiting for when they'll see,
the day they'll all be free.

(Thus ends "The Beginning".)

The Wait (2023-Present)

The Day

It will, some time, be the day,
a day of wrath, many will say,
when truth will be put on display.

In the book, all was written,
as we still ask for remission.
In Thee, our hope is given.

We ask for Thy great mercy,
to not be separated from Thee,
in Thy great and awesome majesty.

The Time

The time he waited for had come,
when things were going to improve.
But, what did he need to do now?

At the worst time, problems started.
Ripped away from that which was good.
Progress made, was quickly reverted.

Many months and time came and went.
Money, over budget, still spent.
Trying to still see the first goal.

The Road to Nowhere

Just to save 75 seconds:
many businesses and homes destroyed,
but the project was then not finished.

Conditions worsening from the changing,
for anyone staying or displaced,
to surrounding areas, cascading.

A pricy suburbanite's exit,
to bypass entire neighborhoods,
remaining neglected by elites.

What's left of the once prosperous place,
still neglected by the powerful,
shows what future the city might want.

But work's started to try to resolve,
the lasting scars across the city,
but it all could have been avoided.


The Disbanding of the Book Club -- from The Life Outside Known Space: Shift in Summit, in the perspective of Daniel Miller)

The book club is now gone,
buried in the sands of time.
A replacement, there is none,
it's loss feels like a crime.
All who dwelt wander lost hereon,
alone, with uphill battles to climb.

The works, they want us to forget,
with hopes to boost control.
Once words that were an empty threat,
now taking a great toll.
The chain of actions have been set,
with limiting works their first goal.

Once a republic most renowned,
H.R. will forever be.
Believed it will always be around,
It's still a home for me.
And our voice will not be drowned,
crushed by the agency.

Anton McClure / anton@presumed.net
Last updated: Sat Jun 1 14:40:49 EDT 2024