Nobody Knew Better Than Him
Nobody knew better than him the value
Of great art --
The need to preserve the memory of
Great artists;
Do not even the basest of us feel
Overwhelming emotion, hushed awe?
Great art should seem to the eye all
Things divine rather than human;
But still, of any person...it should fall
to him
To obliterate the most magnificent
Art had then yet to offer.
A crime committed in full view
Of the old city's appalled populace;
He undertook it with selfsame blase'
Nonchalance
Such as dictators sometimes so indulge in
When immersed in their own idle genocides.
The mind that contrived such eloquent,
Articulated words
Hell-bent on a dreadful, utterly
Inconceivable destruction!
And following on from this terrible
Silence of a long, drawn-out aftermath?
The choirs of gathering voices offering up
Glorianas and praises-in-excelsis
For that which unceasingly labours to exalt
In the banality of the prosaic and mundane.
Copyright © John Fleming | Year Posted 2020
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