Twenty twenty-one It’s a bright new year Exactly, twenty twenty-one, It came out from twenty-twenty A year that we shall forever remember A year of transition, of shift The point in time where that door opened For the future to creep in deep Without us even realising the deed Too busy with the pandemic and other threats Apocalyptic hues burning the sky Might be the universe upgrading Who will ever know about the scheme Perhaps a spell, perhaps a curse A strange type of madness that took over Hence, to all those who silently departed On that spaceship that had been waiting Silently, on standby, in the dark sky, To all those who fell on the ground Hurting themselves so badly, achingly My heart follows them, they carry me. It’s a bright new year Exactly, twenty twenty-one, Perhaps we leaped in time To erase from our fragile memory The traumatism of twenty-twenty — All of the scars it left on us When Pandora opened her jar It’s a bright new year Exactly, twenty twenty-one And I hope, we all make it safely. -Eiravel-
This time, compared to my former new year’s poems — A Renewed Year and A Cycle Ends, I tried to dig within the speculation realm as to come up with this poem, for it seems that all of the bad energies, from every plane and every dimension, crossed/converged/synergised at that point in time, which was 2020. How strange, beautiful, but also frightening to find these lone stars/planets/light or whatever else travel such long distances as to meet, to intersect, to harmonise, to unite, as on their way they shackle and trouble us — little mere mortals (I love me some astrology🔮).