NaPoWriMo April 14th, Another Lifetime's Work

Where there are prophecies, they will cease
Because time flows incessantly
Pouring over ideas until they conform to reality,
Distilling the grain on which men feast.

Where there are tongues, they will be stilled
Because death is no friend of freedom
Though speech frames the notion society holds
Of an incurable desire never to be killed.

Where there is knowledge, it will pass away
Because the fallacy of the tide of progress
Is that it does not flow in one direction,
But forms and retreats as sure as there is hell to pay.