Wilderness

I look across this now so foreign world,
As thick grey smoke of progress blots the sun,
And choke on futures bought for blood not earned,
With heaviness, my heart is come undone.
For towers graze a sky which once was blue,
With wooded hills the pinnacles of land,
Blessed old now fast replaced with brutal new,
And sadly gone is beauty at their hand.
I wake from startling dreams which leave me ill,
Of futures which I pray will never come,
Look out the window to see green of hills
And dawning over mountains, golden sun.
Might I, with nature, hold against the tide
And walk these hills, in love of nature’s pride.

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Author: agw

Amateur poet and writer who aspires to write more...

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