Formation of nations,
The waging of wars,
The world’s nov’l narration
Or the artist’s score.
The power of harm’ny
To lift a lost life,
Or power of hatred
That twists like a knife.
They made what we became,
Made us who we are.
Our lives, on them we blame.
On them, our lives craft.
__They are our gods, moments be damned.
__They lead us, hell-bound, by the hand.

© Blake Leitch January 31, 2013