With these captives of creation,
Penal jungles carry soundcraft,
More fractures than will to address,
So forlorn shadows grow their depths,
Could all the rage in utopia,
Reason a cure in its chains?
Would the shepherd stand from the flock,
And say here I am?
Borders can make order on paper,
Boys and girls continue in ratios of virtue,
Either side of a swinging gate,
Now as noise assists the dismantlement,
Menacing strains protrude like candle litter,
Beneath a shady shelf of dust, paper,
And pastel coloured labels.
Rowan Blair Colver
Penal jungles carry soundcraft,
More fractures than will to address,
So forlorn shadows grow their depths,
Could all the rage in utopia,
Reason a cure in its chains?
Would the shepherd stand from the flock,
And say here I am?
Borders can make order on paper,
Boys and girls continue in ratios of virtue,
Either side of a swinging gate,
Now as noise assists the dismantlement,
Menacing strains protrude like candle litter,
Beneath a shady shelf of dust, paper,
And pastel coloured labels.
Rowan Blair Colver
