When Chaos

I wrote this 33 years ago after reading John Brunner's 1971 novel, The Traveller in Black...so don't think I never read any fantasy. I was reminded of this poem while thinking about the wonders of economic cycles. --JWSchmidt 23:02, 4 April 2009 (UTC)

When Chaos shifts the foundations of sense and minds of logic find no defense for their thoughts that should be correct, the world of good and stable acts will lose sway and the variables will choose what the known is to be and how much power for how much fee will be given to this and that and anything that one might possibly dream into being.

When Chaos knows a thing to do, or if it just has a fleeting wish we see the immediate loss of sight because of the awesome height that Chaos and Impossible attain while only scattered bits of sense remain<BR> so that millions of us work and weary<BR> to top the Terrible Things, and while doing this,<BR> also forget that Chaos will not bring Bliss

When Chaos<BR> like a passing plague has been out lasted in this world<BR> we will find it grows too old,<BR> for like an endless painting it grows so abstract<BR> that the abstractness will be a pattern<BR> (a contradiction for Chaos, as we learn)<BR> and wise men will up and shout<BR> "The age of Chaos is going out!"<BR> and men will be sensible again until they refrain<BR> and Chaos will rise to start the cycle all over again.