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Chaos Rules the Garden of Her Harmony.

Out of the calm expectancy we claim as security
Rides a child of glowing radiance, born of the blood moon tamed.
He sleeps within the garden evergreen
Keeping clean the blue that glazes the dreams of children
Reflecting upon their means.

We as dogs are reared from birth to conform within uniform.
We are taught that man in the lord of nature yet fickle by
His own existence. We learn beyond the translucent panes
We know as escape that upon our hands the blood of our
Mother stains. It pains me so to see the mother that bore me birth
Laid placid in acceptance of the turning of her children.
She is butchered. Chaos rules the garden of her harmony.

What are we to do as brothers of the grain?
Are we to watch our mother writhe in pain?
As we abuse the Love we receive from her nurture
Using the excuse that we are by the nature of our stature destructive.
Ever excusing our actions with the construction of abstractions
All we are doing is refracting the truth upon a reflection distorted.

Creating only obstruction to the construction of a palace Avalon
Within which we would wish to dwell.

We may always glance at the philosopher kings of the past
We may forever ponder why such ideals faded and didn’t last.

Rome died a death of decadence debased
Through slavery, through organised brutality
Such an illusion of glory was formed
Upon these ideals the building blocks of all
Empires are placed. Upon these ideals breed
Storm fuelled eyes within the most placid of Emperors.

poem by David Lacey
Added by Poetry Lover
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