Visionaries
It’s a shame
The stumbling block for some is truth
Paralyzed and frightened since their youth
To step through enlightened doors
It’s their game
To play while livin’ in their lies
Honored teachers wouldn’t be surprised
They’ve shown us enlightened shores
Where have all our visionaries gone
It’s seems so long ago
Hours of darkness forth into the dawn
Something visionaries know
It’s a shame
As times the way they are this day
Fortunate’s insisting that we play
But why have they come this far
‘cause it’s their game
The way they’ve weighed the dealer’s side
Shadows we are cleverly denied
Through blight from their dying star
And where have all those visionaries gone
It seems so long ago
Hours of darkness forth into the dawn
Something visionaries know
Many times through life’s frustration
And P.T. Barnum’s snake-oiled fruit
We find our path to life’s awakenin’, by
Relinquishin’ our blindest eye to truth
That visionary lies within me, within you
It’s a shame
That we have had to fit our youth
To condescending fools without a clue
They cook those books, cook those wars
It’s their game
Consider if you will their ties
Honored teacher’s blood’s their drink of choice
But dreams are worth dying for
So here we stand where visionaries have gone
From here our hearts do flow
Feeble minds are what they’re countin’ on
May our visionaries grow
Copyright 1981, Will Fiala
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem