Year
Words written on biblical leaves,
Genesis drowned long ago
In the Flood, when no one believes
In a century humiliation bestowed.
The clock’s stopped and puppets walk
Along the crowded streets, where men
Of genius bleed from a thousand knocks,
As scarecrows hollowed in a pen.
Violent delights of thousands of souls,
Whitewashed, lost in graceless madness,
Blunted knives with shallow goals
And promises swept in glib caress.
As even the strongest rocks decay in time
So will a culture, no longer sublime.
Posted on dVersePoet's OpenLinkNight, 1/15/13