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literature

The Last Fortress of Idealism

watchmedancewildly's avatar
By watchmedancewildly   |   Watch
3 1 78 (1 Today)
Published: February 27, 2006
Who could have known that in that thoughtless desecration
Of undertones within our intellectual conversation
One small sigh would teeter our pedestals
We’d built for one another out of gold
And leave us drifting from the Parthenon and into highway roads?
Society is lying at our feet and culture braided in your hair
A physical array of all humans could desire
All that gods with underworlds could joined conspire
And yet stands tall our city built on air.



Within the halls of transparency held precious
Behind those long glass walls I hide malicious
Sins that should not be so difficult to amend.
It’s blank but is it real, that canvas hung so proud?
I could not answer even if I lied
The wire entwined around our hearts and minds prevents the word
From being spoken in the parliamentary rooms of my creation
And despite my initial, blind elation
I cannot help but cry
When I consider all the citizens of my city in the sky.



How could you saunter into that so strictly guarded fortress
Brazenly yet martyred in your mind that thought so flawless
Slaying my angelic reveries?
It should be now that we have plunged from the surreal
To rest on tarmac, concrete, and those other accusations
And all your lack of patience
Moral anarchy adopted in the name of to reveal
What we had known from social orders already to exist.
Precision always lacks when measuring what one seems
The devices live as diamonds in that building of my dreams.
© 2006 - 2019 watchmedancewildly
A poem aspiring to encapsulate the tragedy of the destruction of beauty throughout daily life.
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lulu4714's avatar
lulu4714Hobbyist General Artist
Wow thats amazing! I really like the lines
'How could you saunter into that so strictly guarded fortress
Brazenly yet martyred in your mind that thought so flawless
Slaying my angelic reveries?'
It just seems to make sense to me :)