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Poems - Cataclysm

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Cataclysm

by folksingerjon

In the days of the famine and flood,
Which hath marked its path upon the southern region of the North Continent;
The harrowed souls which carried forth from the perilous rummage,
In search for the meaning of the tide’s distraught and ill bent
Mannerism;
Encompassed their very path as unclosed Revelation,
And sent forth an invocation to the Summoner’s hand
To disclose such purport and significance from the unfurled creation

“Hath we missed the forewarning of Ea as so in the past?
This deity which striketh demise and grim reproof from the waters
which chastened Eridu’s gulf;
Shall we turn forth to Viracocha’s hand?
Shall we set our blames upon his distrust in our souls of irreverence
As he cursed Lake Titicaca, breaching their mass hulls?
Is this unhallowed work a beckoning of Enlil?
Who decided in his unrest,
To weed away the gorged rims of the populations;
Or is it the work of the One,
Who set forth a flamboyancy as means of vow
To deliver our kind from such misfortune?”

Days upon days fell into the vast,
The souls grew impatient of all benevolence
In which, was seemingly good nature of them to ask
And impatient of all answers of explicable means
To shed their enlightenment upon the mass
In vast lines of filth and uproar,
The souls set forth to their beckoning upon the great mountain
To bestow their uneasy inquiries upon the shoulders of the philosophers,
Who chiseled away at their stones, accounting and deciphering the happenings of the land,
Immersed in studies of Diderot, of his early writings of free will,
Wittgenstein, his Austrian meddling in the philosophy of language and logic,
And the importance of the moment, Voltaire,
Who’s philosophy of the religious greatly juxtaposed with the rulers of the Nation
The Nation, in which, catastrophe had recently befallen

The philosophers startled at the presence of the intrusion
Stepping forth to address the uproar,
The leader of the group, Baldric, (kindling a baldric of wisdom around his waist)
Spoke in gentle tongue, “What is it in which you seek our guidance for?”
A trembling townsman stood to speak-
“We come forth,
Oh great writers of knowledge and reason,
To kindle this flame, who’s burning wick deprives us of all reason
In what manner shall we address this apparition?
Shall we sulk upon our misfortune,
Or upon the fallacy of our mankind?
Please, great ambassadors of opinion,
Deliver our offspring from our own ignorance!
And from the fools-
Who mark their imbecility upon our countenance”

Baldric, who’s glimmering robe purged deeply into all of the eye sights,
And instilled an air of mandatory attention-
Lifted his weathered eyebrow,
His facial features had sunken into each wrinkle
Which enveloped the twinkles in his eyes,
And shown the reaps of his glorious age,
Displaying the wisdom in his surmise,
He lifted the hands which cast out all traces of mendacity

“You who come to us in means of final resort
To the peril which has taken its toll upon your homes,
Are the same ones who cast our guidance aside
When means of spirituality prevailed;
When God had spread his seeds of harmony and good will upon your palate
And the land in which you reside
How doest thou come to us now?
With searching hearts in vacancy of light
Light, failing to shed upon your deceitful and corrupted minds
The minds that now, search for the purgatory in which was promised
So that you may redeem yourselves of these misfortunate times”

Silence took its toll upon the crowd,
As they soaked in the words
And lowered their heads in shame
For the great philosopher had pierced their hearts
With ridicule and no glorious exchange-
Of forgiveness, in which they had indeed searched for





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Oustanding! Detail a (Score: 1 )
by Mournblade1179 on Tuesday, September 12, 2006 (07:56:15)
Oustanding! Detail and storytelling is superb.

-Mordecai

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  Added on: 10-Sep-2006 | Hits: 447 | Full author copyright - Exclusive Right held by author.



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