another beautiful eye
reflects lifes lie,
when you look into its face
and see a better place
close by.
without that circle round its dream,
everything is seen
to separate unequally in two
and drift apart blown through
old sky.
the why, where and when
does not matter then,
as it dissipates
into other fates
making old orders die.
in all the residue
of what we knew,
a fading sphinx, casting contemporary
shadows, rises, temporary
but still drops by
elsewhere, in the flawed foundations
of younger civilizations,
building their own
mountains of shaped stone
where polished lenses spy.
Copyright Strider Marcus Jones. 4th February, 2011. All Rights Reserved.
Perhaps you should have lived in a younger civilization...rather than the contemporary polished lenses...the land of the golem.
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