Reflection to the Modern
In The stillness of darkness
Only those that thread on
The brink of madness
Can know what goes on
In the mind of such derangement of discontent.
A discontentment if left
To fester will surely
Erode at the very essence
Of disdain and disquiet
Until all that is left is
A shell of what was once
Greatness and fulfilment.
A fulfilment that was
At the height of its
Contentment seeped through
Every pore, every fibre of
Its owner to emanate
The power of light
Of warmth, of life.
A life that was full
Of the promise and hope
The future to which it belonged
So carefully carved and crafted
As a sculpture carves shape into a stone.
And like a stone this life too
Is void of the ingredient that pumps
Blood through the living
And so the cycle begins all over again.
And one stares down at the sea below
Rushing as the waves hit against the bow of the ship
And the lifeless body in the arms of its mother
The outline of the land coming into view
Is all the hope that is given
To look back now would be futile.
Look ahead, dream of a new world a new beginning
The land you have left is gone but never forgotten
Yes the brink of madness is what kept you alive
When the crop failed and you were forced
To leave the proud land you called home.
It was that pride that fuelled the discontentment
That will give rise to the mighty
To the powerful, to the leader
That will follow, that will be born
From the despair of its forefathers.