When the clouds are mating
The winds throw dust into the eyes of interested parties
Then even highly inquisitive eyes will shut
Until each body in the mating posture cools
Minds are so wonderful,
That though they know something sinister is ongoing,
They bury them deep and live in the day
Moving on with new trends
Forgetting about the mating whose consequences
Will rise like an untamed lion
To devour them when they least expect.
When are we going to wish to be blinded
By the wind’s propaganda than close our eyes to our own fall?
It wouldn’t be bad buying expensive mind goggles
To watch this mating,
To try and separate them before they beget chaos.