(no subject)
The tide rises.
Churning propellors up and under
The deep blue sky
Whip up the most amazing
Harmony of chanting.
The man says:
"Will you not come forth,
To where we know north?
For man once cried foul
Of the acrimonious file."
The cords tighten.
Voices of gusto in and out
Of town, city and country
Shake the earth with
Symphonic sobbing.
The boy cries:
"Woe, woe,
Do you not know?
Whence he cries
So he dies."
Churning propellors up and under
The deep blue sky
Whip up the most amazing
Harmony of chanting.
The man says:
"Will you not come forth,
To where we know north?
For man once cried foul
Of the acrimonious file."
The cords tighten.
Voices of gusto in and out
Of town, city and country
Shake the earth with
Symphonic sobbing.
The boy cries:
"Woe, woe,
Do you not know?
Whence he cries
So he dies."