Come
Come, let us walk this broken street, you and I;
Explore the infamy we share before we die.
After all, will death not seize man's birthright
When this day gives way to night?
Signposts all along the way, today,
Creaking in the autumn wind as they sway
And swing their monolithic rhapsody -
No time to gently die with dignity;
Our tongues so rough and dry
Must see the wasted remnants
Of the world, before we die.
You ask me why?
Observations made though flawed as art,
Is all we have as we depart.
Our eyes observe for those whose
Eyes have long been pearls
Within the locusts' den
Where fog and dust now swirls.
I hear no sound of water's drip -
All is rock and pebbled sod.
No sound of wind-whipped sail
On seabound ship,
Nor voices raised in praise of God.
All be still at His last will!
Come, let us turn this corner to the past,
For there is where we find
All unexpected treasure mined
Will never last;
Our blood can boil
In passion's heat,
But cools and turns to dust
- complete -
After all, will death not seize man's birthright
When this day gives way to night?
Where are the jewels once sparkling in the sun
And woven through her black and braided hair?
The pyramids stand idle, each and every one,
Above the bones that wither there.
Was not their time as equal then
As ours is equal now?
And who should steal the sacredness
Within the sacred cow?
Those who follow desert prophets proud,
Or those without perception
Shouting loudest from the crowd?
Hear the purloined jester chuckle from the grave.
His light and airy voice spoke truth
About the grayness of the cave -
Plato's shadows tell the tale,
How reasoned men will surely fail.
After all, will death not seize man's birthright
When this day gives way to night?
Come, and you will see the mystery
That none have seen before -
The glory of society
Before the tyranny of war.
Nothing stays unique
Beneath this vast expanse of sky -
Lest brightness buries bleak
Which is unique,
As you and I pass by.
Come, if you will,
Notice all these brittle leaves
Upon the broken street,
So still,
As autumn breezes cease - complete.
After all, did death not seize man's birthright
As this day gave way to night?
Copyright © Tom Mcmurray | Year Posted 2011
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