Reflection to the Modern

By

Anna Daly-McCabe

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.