Eyal’s poem, at last.

Below is Eyal’s poem the way he wanted to post it in the first place (I think). And when you get rid of all the silly code and find the time to actually read it, it is a truly beatifull poem worthy his signature. So please, take your time, and read this little gem of litterature that our friend has given us.  

I dreamt last night I was a child again,
But had in my mind the memories of today.
and tried as I might to convey the future,
and screamed as I did for people to listen,

I was only a child, talking of stories.
Albeit articulated well, and spoken true
my warnings fell upon deaf ears,
I failed at my attempt to fix my past.

Stubborn as I am there was no quenching my resolve
I was bound to serve my time locked up
and wasted time ticked slowly on,
as wasted lives were lost.

Only after years of denying my gifts
was I released back into the world,
and while I still had strength of spirit
I made one final journey across the ocean.

I was in New York that Autumn day,
And tried again to help the people,
with future sureties I knew to be true,
But with nothing I could do, the first bird struck,

And it was only after the second hit too,
I realised that in wasting my life a second time,
towards some futile end, Had I forgotten that
Which had made my life worth living, my friends.

And there I stood, forgotten and alone,
in the saddest city of the world that day,
in the shadow of those fated towers
powerless to save but one.

And so I waited for one to rain down
and wash me upon the shores of tomorrow
for only here I belong, in this time of possibility
for it is better to be uncertain amoungst others,
Than the inevitable emptiness of certainty.

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