And then came the silence...

I'm desperate about this,

We're proclaiming love,

But it's to wage war!

It's night every day!

Waiting for change,

We'd like to hear

A call to surprise,

A voice that transcends!

There's the war-goers,

Looking back

Or turned towards the heavens,

Distrustful and sulphurous!

And also the mythos,

To the smooth talk!

Very personal delirium

Who smokes poor people!

Not to mention dry hearts!

Regulation freaks,

They don't see failure

And disenchantment!

What's the ritual for?

Very virtual pretense,

Words spoken

And soon forgotten!

We want to be initiated,

But it's a sham!

And also theater,

To pretend to exist!

Lodges, it's unconsciousness

Which leaves us in a state of awe!

Where is the hope?

What about love in joy?

To dream of peace,

We have silence,

Tinged with benevolence,

But always meant!

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Mateo Simoita
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Médecin retraité ; initié en 1979 au Grand Orient de France.

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