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A Vision
Stand still, my soul, and listen;
See how the shadows glisten,
And all the gay-eyed grasses wave
On fertile ground or on a grave.
The rivers cry, the mountains sigh,
All ‘round’s encroaching ruin;
The grass, the leaves, the trees, they die,
A squared-off pit sucks you in.
Hold this nightmare-thing at bay,
Keep poisoned futures far away;
Keep this world of balance balanced
And let things as they are stay.
Very startling and thought-provoking imagery.
And all the gay-eyed grasses wave
On fertile ground or on a grave.
This, in particular, is awesome. Gay-eyed is an interesting way to describe grasses.
i wish i saw cool stuff like this... i always end up seeing all the dismembered bodies ive thrown into lakes over the years whenever i space out too much.