The Agony of Form
In so many words
Let the beast take form
Let verse arise out of chaos
Let the tides shift
In favour of harmony
Blessed are the meek
Tinged with sweat
They have wrought science from paganism
Blessed are the misbegotten
Holy art thou not?
Implored to act in favour of thy nature
So we children of this new age
What have we in the name of the sun wrought?
To avenge is to forget also what started the problem
I write for thee
Thee, thou and thus tamely all who will know
And those that shan't
For thee all be
But one, differing in only virtue
And science and the new age
All from before as one
Wring the favours from the hands of thy ministers
Sacred, wretched values
Decree what thou art know
In the face of the redeemer
I know little
Enough to be careful
Wanting scarce often to be recognised
Better to be understood
Than misunderstood
Better to hold captive
Than be captive
Copyright © Natasha Adams | Year Posted 2022
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