Thursday, February 25, 2016
There Be Knowledge
There will be knowledge,
And there will be more of it;
That was over and then begun,
Names may hurl at strangers
Echoing light, fully doomed,
Gorgeous faced, without attire.
The name of the game is nearby
A city of elders who fashion robes
Of red blood, staining their assumptions.
For they hurt one another, like bricks
Sealed to each other, like atoms of the
Travellers between mountains.
There will erode the shores of our land,
But fixated are the eyes of the sharing hand;
It will fix its stare at beloved eyes,
Eyes of a horizon are at their zenith,
Feeling the residue of a land too late
In quagmire, so innocent a mash of marsh.
Topic(s) of this poem: knowledge