I hope all the Gods are together and watching,
nectar and nibbles arms-reach from each chair.
The atmosphere cold, eyes glued to our plight,
swamped by the volume of incoming prayer.
Because, if corruption means no-one is watching
the architects gone taking new life elsewhere.
with plans for a yellow or maybe a red world.
Then we must prepare to advance with great care.
Roan copyright © July 2012
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