A poem about being trapped within the life of a city.
Melancholia The heavy eyes of tear ridden moments.
Am drowning in the waves of now.
The fires of destruction only last so long,
Yet the ashes remain like scars that have
Bleed mightily and sorely, festering breaches
Steaming while the skin of time reaches
To cover the evidence of pain.
Perhaps it will become a field of flowers, open
And accepting of the blackened frame that lies in
Testimony. Or perhaps even you will build a
New factory atop the old, like a new garment
Meant to hide a hideous mark upon the body.
Underneath however, the soil still screams
From pain in memory of the boiling touch
Disinfecting the life beneath, and the coldness
Afterwards felt by the absence of the tiny
Creatures that called this patch of life home.
Only to breed a new life of dogged progress
And change that the desert wind and sand
Battle with to cover up mean
While we build a new city in the desert
And with it bring new pollution, pain and joy.
My God! Where am I?
Where should I go.
The cruel cities will eat at my soul,
But without these conveniences
The wraith and shadow both will starve.
My soul is strong
But still my soul bleeds.
The sirens and waves of men
Frightened by the beauty
Thus luring her into sweet silence
This is the only way they know
How to continue on.
Continue on my son.
I'm chilled by the shadows that I stand in,
But still do not think I can run
On my own without her in the sun.
Each day she grows weaker as the
Polluted sky grows bleaker
Evermore the sky grows farther away,
My dreams upon the clouds that
Deliver acid into it all.
Fuente: http://elfwood.lysator.liu.se/libr/a/u/autumn/melancholia.txt.html
