In tribute to Matthew Arnold, with my own concerns.
What reason have I to feel such sorrow?
Unhurt, not oppressed, merely existing. No horror.
Lonely, yes; but really is that such distress?
A lacking world is the problem.
What passion, what good, what suffering do we stop?
None! for I fear that it is ever our plot.
Speak out! I want proclaim, but for what?
No one left to listen
No more cry for revolution
If problems left so unresolved
become falling, fading song
No one left to carry on
Occupied in safe mediocrity a
population rots; most in poverty
Minds no longer trained to express
Experiment, contrive, learn to repress
Where's my revolution, my century changing call!
Standing upon hilltop, bricked like wall
We, or perhaps only I look below
upon a scene scribed an age ago;
I stumble down below, into the darkling plain,
Matthew you were right:
We're still trapped; insane
and ignorant armies still rule the night.
-jsn
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*applauds* I don't need to say much else, that was remarkable.
ReplyDeleteI really appreciate that comment Daniel. I worked hard on this, and feel it may be one of the first things of real substance I've ever been able to produce. You have my deepest respect for feeling something by it (I hope!)
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