There is this place of which I know,
Where light prevails but darkness also sits in the front row;
It’s where dreams are born and shattered,
Order tries to impose itself but chaos gets it scattered.
Long and fruitful lives take shape,
But are crushed easily like a grape,
It governs you, it lies in everyone,
It cures, it plagues, it discriminates none.
I’d also add that it’s a marvelous place,
Filled with joy and unending grace,
The downside is that most abuse it,
Tear it down or, worse, don’t use it!
It’s not perfect but nor are we,
But it’s as flawless as can be.
It’s fruits are all around,
It builds our world and whithout restraints, it reaches limits, breaks them and goes beyond;
What is this I describe?
Easy! It is our tribe!
It encompases every citizen of every nation,
Figured it out? No?! Well, then you lack it. It’s called IMAGINATION!
by Vlad-Ovidiu Adam
