Homo Ridicules Poem by Madrason .

Where men do hide their faces
pressed in feathered pillows
where sweeping weeps the waning willow
and women dry their tears in naked sheets
bleached in the sun become a painting
and all the marble guide their traces
beneath the soil their crackled faces
aubades to the the snow-layered skies
the ships pass bye in slower paces…...
of ships and mountains and their graces
a life so beautiful yet undeserved
a tense and slow lethargic
that's in need unnerved
it is rooting in the earth
and eager to be burnt
dreams of arising like a phoenix
polluting the sky without a why
undeserved, unnerved, unworthy
of this mighty earth
which in fact our heavens worth
where we the untouched seek
where we the meagre and the weak
succumb by a devouring illness
where ‘more' the will is a mill
a machine made by men
for millennia will…...
still abandon beauty. M