Industrial Fortress Poem by David Lacey

Where are they now?
Those voices that once held dominion over my mind.
What poor soul are they accusing of forgiveness in seeking beyond blindness
All that lay in wait for us within a kingdom of ever changing ages?
They story turns, my pupils burn and the world unfolds, never younger,
Never older but always the story is told. Wrapped in paper skin I'm dissolving
Into a solution of madness, revolving around a hope in revolution.

An Industrial fortress stands as solemn testament to the devilry of man,
Silhouetted against the sickly yellow clouds that smother the horizon
A labyrinth of pipes and towers forever cooling unwinds before the eye
They have proclaimed the death of the river man; they have proclaimed the death of the sky
And told are we as children lost that no Jack is there to paint the frost upon the window pane.
The forest night is dead it seems and peopled only by our dreams
Those ghosts of ever fading pasts, those memories which forever last.

The flames of the solar phoenix are flaring


The days are dissolving beyond recollection and no hope of resurrection is there for we
Sinful soulful warriors of midnight’s canopy. Vulnerable yet free, bruised yet smiling and all the while suckling upon the roots of the world tree, weeping in freedom's name.

Free me

Free me of misery
Free me of ecstasy
Free me of carnage
Free me of love