Oh Muse, let me tell this tell. do not leave me in the desert,
but let me drink from your oasis.
The Season of Change
One journey has ended,
one will begin,
but before you start,
you must enter here.
As hoards of Lemmings
they run to the edge,
unknowing of what awaits them.
i will tell this secret,
as i have heard it.
As children we drank from the well.
Our youth has left us dry.
As children we are born in amazement,
as men we die in disillusionment.
All from passing though the season of change.
In come the lost, the forgotten, the young and confused;
those who wallow in pain.
i welcome you to this gate,
all must pass though.
but as the Muse told Jim, "no one get out of here alive!"
Copyrighted by Michael Cooke, 2000.