The Eternal

How far can you see,
Into this fading night,
Doth the smouldering wastelands;
Sacred to the ghosts of symbols,
Yield shadows as you reach,
By it’s fading edge and listen,
The old echo of mute prayers,
Shatter the purity of silence,
And raise words harsh and illuminating.Doth these new voices,
Predict an arrival,
Of an age where,
Men designs men,
As the cold knife, naked with naive desire,
Drips with exalted impunity,
Curious to carve,
Another face, another being,
So scarred by errors of life,
That being immortal is the only answer?

Author: TheHumanAnvil

I find poetry as a gentle reminder, a medium to relay and dwell upon all things considerate people find inconsiderate. Poetry as an art is akin to a lamp or a magnifying glass. It trails volumes of meaning behind obscure, vague words. I have been writing for a time now, and intend to do so for the time to come. And hopefully, hopefully, hope that one day, someday, a person stumbling across this veil of words, find it alluring enough to shift aside the curtain and peer, into the eyes of the naked truth which sways with the wind of reason. If you have any thoughts, it would be my pleasure to know them, if you don't then it would be a pleasure to not. Be my guest. This feast of words is for you.

2 thoughts on “The Eternal”

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