She, the wise old woman stares
at a former city with nightmares
left. Will good times ever return?
Or will this city forever burn?
She sees light of hope left
as armored ones fight with theft.
Sorrowfully, she shuts her eyes, aware
that the citadel will now decline.
Meanwhile, The Outsiders express stronger agony
for a much, much shorter time
than The Victims who possess only
memories, bread, and a weakening prayer.
Like flesh-eaters smelling in the air
decomposing bodies they will also share
to the whole world watching pitifully,
the degradation of others’ humanity.
They claim to have true devotion.
Their “heroism” will be forever unbroken.
Their backs covered with velvet, red
capes and necks are richly adorned
with diamonds, silvers, and antique gold.
They share how they have mourned.
With glossy crowns they have sold
tales of divine greatness that spread.
Note: During my time in college, there was just one attempt at writing poetry. I’m simply not much of a “poetry-person” but maybe one of those days there will be another attempt at such art.
I wonder if anyone can understand the meaning behind this poem. 😉
Destruction (1836) by Thomas Cole