Arabian Nights Re-Cycle the Temple In Honour of the Sun

ABABIAN NIGHTS RE-CYCLE THE TEMPLE IN HONOUR OF THE SUN

From Fahrenheit to Celsius,
From imperial to metric,
Cutting the cloth to measure?
Or measuring to cut the cloth?
Is it the tinker tailor soldier sailor rich man poor man beggar man or thief?
For the thief comes in the night,
The tailor comes in the day light,
One is the power broker that fights,
The other an honest broker who is liked,
As poker bluffs with every move,
Shifting sands from the bazaar to the emir,
The joker is the card that is wild,
As one can fool the crowd,
And lose the hand,
For always in the end all hands are shown,
As the face of character,
Reveals the letter of the law

Worse than Watergate,
Subterfuge,
For the hand is faster than the eye,
As the eagle soars,
Cities scorch,
Investigations botched,
As the culprits flew the coup,
A coup d’état of democracy,
Turns a white house into a dark cave,
with many shadows.

The conclave,
A secret assembly veiled,
Takes flight,
All go to ground
zero,
For there are no human rights,
When living by absolute rules,
As the sands through the hour glass,
Are blowing in the wind,
To hide the tracks and cover
crimes and misdemeanours,
As demeanours stay below
radars,
As the midnight oil burns,
The king is told he has no clothes,
The tailor hoodwinks the thief,
For the camel cannot go through the eye of the needle,
For one must know the kingdom,
And the crystal kingdom knows,
That to return to Mecca is not only a pilgrimage,
But the privilege when returning home
to profound wisdom.

Archangel Gabriel speaks of prophets not profits,
For the cries of inhumanity have been heard,
As oil spills as blood in the name of revenge,
For in the end the storms will rage and oceans roar,
For Gabriel is standing on the sea shore,
For he is sure of what he sees,
He blows the horn,
The clarion call,
As the old world of power and control falls
on its own sword,
The syntax error of human ego transforms
into the synaxis of saints,
As all awaken the bringers of the dawn,
To discover the mirage of imperialism is the illusion,
As an oasis emerges from virtues long deserted,
Reunification is the new earth song,
The young phoenix arises from the ashes of old,
Carrying its nest from the tree of life,
To Heliopolis in Egypt,
As renewable energy re-cycles the temple
in honour of the sun.