Aug. 13th, 2008

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

what we were left was echo of your word

the shadow of a kingdom of the blind

where error and unkindness were enshrined

 

our truest ruler was the carrion bird

who never feigned to be another kind

what we were left was echo of your word

 

all our ordinances are quite absurd

creations of authoritarian mind

for you and not for us they were designed

what we were left was echo of your word

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

before you reach the shore the cargo sinks
and with it all your hopes and every thought
of changing what you feared or had been taught
into a wilder form instead the links
reform and you must still endure the stinks
of memory and wrath and all the fraught
terrors in which our lives have long been caught
and groan as gaolers calmly close the chinks
those were you ponder brighter younger days
when happy sails could cross well-charted seas
and not be threatened by the coming storm
this is the time when we can't pierce the haze
and only horror comes upon the breeze
while even darkness seems to be too warm

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fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
fledgist

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