Existence is a Cage.

by mulberry tree & the yellow gorse,
by fresh turf muddy sprewn, sweet springing stream,
rides the downs man his caesar´s charger horse
through fields where yellow flowers gleam.
here now before where rises green woodland
moor carved by a bleak horizon´s lone wind,
the phantom downs man silhouetted stands
against a bloody condemned, damned day sinned.

a thousand paths i wend alone forlorn
that the lost lands of freedom be reborn,
as rides the phantom horseman to his doom
gun slung bounderies under the sky´s hood
& tho soon will be reaped day´s furrowed coomb,
yet we´re not free, as trees in the wood.



Copyright Robin Ouzman Hislop 2004
All rights reserved.