General Poetry posted October 8, 2017

This work has reached the exceptional level
This poem is a tale of despair and hope.

All Is Rock And Pebbled Sod

by easyeverett1

Come, let us walk this broken street, you and I,
Explore the infamy we share,
Before it's time for us to die.
Will death not seize the birthright we both wear
When day gives way to night with one last sigh.

Signposts all along the way today.
Their metal rattles with the Autumn breeze,
Each gust a cause to swing and sway
In preparation for the Winter freeze.
Signs play a monlithic rhapsody
For those who soon will die with dignity.

You and I,
With tongues so rough and dry,
Must see the remnants of the world
Before we die.

You ask me why?

Well observations made, though flawed as art,
Is all we have as we depart.
Our eyes observe for those whose eyes
Have long ago become as faded 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 sea-bound ship,
Nor voices raised in praise of God.

All is still at His last will!

Come, let us turn this corner to the past,
For there is where we find
All unexpected treasures mined
Will never last;
Our blood can boil
With passion's heat
But soon will cool and turn to dust - complete.

After all, will death not seize man's birthright
When the day gives way to night?

Where are the jewels once sparkling in the sun
That weaved throughout her black and braided hair?
The pyramids stand idle, 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?
The fools who follow prophets proud,
Or those without perception now
Who shout the loudest from the crowd?

Hear the purloined jester chuckle from the grave!
His light and airy voice once spoke the truth
About the grayness of the cave,
Where Plato's shadows told the tale
Of reasoned men who always fail.

After all, will death not seize man's birthright
When the 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 the vast expansive 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, will death not seize man's birthright
When the day gives way to night?

Poem of the Month contest entry

This work was inspired by
the poem: "The Wasteland"
by T. S. Elliot
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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