Silent and lost famine deep
flow the waters of mischief now
out over and beyond
flooded pastures of decay.
To find passage
through a sunken gateway
where once, secured in hope,
a boundary lay offering promise
of comfort to all who crossed.
Now fallen
from life's rusted hinges of neglect.
Here a heart called out for justice
in a meaningless jesture of faith
for the wind cussed and tore
at tortured ploughman hands.
Distant now calls a solitary raven
perched crazy upon fallen dreams.
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Author:
dusk arising (
Offline) - Published: October 25th, 2020 05:12
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 33
- Users favorite of this poem: Fay Slimm.
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Comments4
Ah - a classic for sure this write of powerful imagery which draws this reader into more perusal ........ a great use of music and words combined in memories now long fallen into dreams..... into my favourites with this gem of a piece.
Ah, the thick plottens as they say.... what's it all about.. well to be honest, it's all a mystery to me but..... inspired by the tattered remains of farm buildings you can see out and about in UK and also villages lost beneath reservoirs..... all jumbled up in that strange place between my ears. Pleased you liked it and honoured to be in your favourites.
A fine write dusk.
A fine comment too, thank you.
Very powerful write d a, that solitary raven will be alone for a long time methinks.
Andy
He just needs a new direction and a few bugs to peck at.... a nibble here and there.
'Fallen': three times rang, in your lines: like the tap count to defeat..
moving and deeply thought provoking,
Brilliant!
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