the masque of humanity

seeking illuminations of this weary age
not on the streets but in the human heart
we read the message and we turn the page

no reason now to burn with hotter rage
at those who made our past a thing apart
seeking illuminations of this weary age

it was no wonder-worker nor no mage
who bought and sold our fathers in the mart
we read the message and we turn the page

all our experience has not made us sage
we have not moved six inches from the start
seeking illuminations of this weary age

we've trapped ourselves within a tiny cage
and yet we've hope this horror to depart
we read the message and we turn the page

each of us takes our turn on the great stage
we forge our lives into a kind of art
seeking illuminations of this weary age
we read the message and we turn the page