Out on the plain…

Out on the plain, there stands
A dying house. The clouds
Hang over it; and water sits
In stagnant ponds where once
Strong footsteps wandered.

There, in the heart of everything,
A vision died. It wasn’t storm
Or strife, but just the grinding
Wheels of analytic urbanized
Complacence, born of patronage,
And pushed away, to where such things
Are gathered.

And the winds can’t wake a land that lies
Beneath the smug and knowing sleep
That learning brings,

When those who know
Have never known

A thing

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

One thought on “Out on the plain…”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s