The Gyre Poem by Barry Middleton

history certainly repeats itself
its cycle is vague and mercurial

the stony beast no longer hides
shadows of evil cover the world

failures of the past lie scattered in the desert
the desiccated corpse of the king
rules a dominion of dust

crumbling effigies outlast the empire
again the Sphinx will suffocate beneath the sand

moss covered totems now rot in the jungles
the centuries have washed away the blood

the sacrificial steps of the pyramids have been cleansed by time
tourists whisper of these things and take a photograph

today the tyrants compete for glory
their treasure is easily maintained
extracted from the blood and sweat and tears of slaves
the chains are fabricated from the iron grip of the system

in the east a yellow fog descends
as dogs and old men die along with women and children

politicians puff their chests and pontificate
and nothing changes in this world

each morning a hopeless star rises in the east
and yet no wise men appear on the morning news

the evil moon sinks into the deceit of a dying sea
innocence and salvation's infancy still await
and we give thanks that we survived the night

there is no second coming
our poets shed their tears
and pen a desperate song
recited for the coffeehouse
where no one really hears
~~~~~
On the cycle of evil in the world and the slaughter of civilians in Syria by nerve gas from the Bashar Assad regime. Allusions to William Butler Yeats' The Second Coming are intentional.