Islands in the flood
Is that the fate of knowledge,
good experience and acquired wisdom,
to, the more it is developed and enriched,
become the less appreciated
and more inaccessible and isolated
as an outcast island of some rarity,
uniqueness and exclusiveness
forgotten and ignored, alone
in this mad flood of media rubbish
drowning the whole world in brainwash,
this derailed civilization of pollution,
self-destructive greed, unnaturalness
and the meaningless obsession with superficiality?
The prophets sticking to the truth
were always persecuted and alone,
impopular, despized and kicked aside,
but they were always there,
left over on deserted islands in the flood
of madness of humanity abandoning all sense
to wallow, as it seems, in anything
that keeps them out of knowledge
and keeps out any uncomfortable truth
from their doomed lives of vanity,
while those too few who care
in silence keep just drudging on
maintaining life and history in spite of all
in underground unthanked for anonymity,
life and its continuity and spite of all destruction
being unjustly their sole reward.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2007-10-23 at 10:36
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