The Lost and the (Pro)Found

I.

The fawn slaughtered in the field

Has stained the weeping daffodils forever.

The purest has fallen,

The untainted has weakened.

A new monster has settled in the forest,

Now black with greed and anguish.

The dictatorship has awakened,

Forcing the old out with the new.

Gone are the simple days

Of tasks one, two, three...

A new era has risen

To fill the hearts with waste.

As the old shuffle to maintain the past,

The monster wrestles their every move.

No traditions, no hope, no future;

Only pestilence mixed with lust.

He wants for everything,

Yet gives for naught.

So much is taken by the dark hand,

So much is wasted by the dark heart.

No love or faith or creation of any kind

Can stop this creeping menace.

Its ever present wanting

Will sedate it for a little while.

But behold,

Only time will see this

Generation through.

II.

Well- worked hands caress

The faded land.

Soft, supple fingers

Cherish the fertile hills.

Two, so different

So... Incomplete with each other,

Fill the blanks left by

The jigsaw builder.

Without one,

There cannot be the other.

For with the other,

There is always one.

To teach, grow, listen,

To wonder and acknowledge,

To have and to hold,

'Till death do they part.

(A marriage of the ages)

When separation comes

It will come at due time.

It gives the chicks a chance,

A chance to spread their wings.

For when authority is gone

The young will flourish.

But when authority is never present,

What room is therre to grow?