I ask how many wars had been fought
Where the sun sets on Genie’s knees;
War in peace, yet peace it brought,
Feigning in Orwellian bliss.
Ruins everywhere, I ask the sages,
The Great Wall and the Pyrenees;
They stand through time and ages,
In Lamarkian idleness.
I cast a line with hopes that ne’er cease;
Where fish and silence are perfect twins;
The world will never, never know peace
Fishing all day by the ruins.
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