In my tale i find
The furrows of desertion and dried up tears
which, ebbing leave a sterile track behind,
over which i plod heavily, the memories of past years
what is left,but to crawl the last sands of life
where not a blossom, not a flower appears.
Ambitions of life and desires all in vain
I wear the shattered links of the world's broken chain
In my narrow being, i dared to aspire
beyond the fitting medium of desire
which once kindled is now left unquenched evermore
Nothing remains,but a fever at the core.
From petty perfidy to mighty wrongs
Have i not seen what human things could do?
From the loud roar of the teeming throngs ,
to the small whisper of the paltry few,
They all attacked with their poisoned fangs -
subtler venom of the reptile crew.
Without utterance, shrug or sigh
learning to lie with silence, would seem true.
Ruins of a broken promise,
the chars of destruction that is.
Through the dust and blackness as i pass,
a sigh escapes,wat remains is 'alas'.
Wrecks of another world,skeleton of the old form -
whose ashes are still poignantly warm.
The unruffled mirror of the loveliest dream,
broken now,cannot even reflect a beam.
The agonies remaining, are evils of the day.
The world at our feet,was it as fragile as clay?