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The Furthest City Lights (to Frost)

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  • The Furthest City Lights (to Frost)

    The Furthest City Light (to Frost)

    I wish I could outwalk the furthest city light.
    I dare say that I have tried.
    Seems though, that city light has crept into every wild crag and treacherous ridge,
    every shadowy forest and even the once shimmering sky.

    True, I was not there before it came, when darkness was not a novelty,
    but as a soul who often wanders between the real and what is pondered
    I'd like to think I could at least have a say on what seems taken away
    from the beauty that did, or so I've read, lie abound in your day.

    To quietly sneak into the rambling wood, is to see no giants, no satyrs, no gnomes.
    They've all been scared into their deep earthly homes so as to slumber ever and never roam.
    The city's circling searching beam does debase every unseen spot.
    Where light was never meant to trickle, has now been seen, and stamped, and bought.

    Once the sky was a crystal dome to the gods, where we played our lives beneath their jealous view.
    Now more like a cataractous eye through which the divine light flows not through.
    It sees not a single miraculous thing, only swirling dust and stone.
    But the city light spills out, its milky lies murking the shattered dome.

    For they even beam into our very minds by ghostly vapors glowing
    to put us in a tranquil ease, and disrupt the discord of our knowing.
    wanderlust replaced by a phantom trust in red and green and blue,
    they feign our sight of brilliant things that you had once seen as true.

    The city light, a fraud of etherial hope, a fraud of joy, a fraud of love.
    How can we unbuild, unexamine, undiscover?
    What has passed has passed: our spirit, soul, destiny.

    I still envy you, you who now sleeps beyond the furthest city light.

    Last edited by bdowning77380; 01-07-2015, 07:31 AM.