The world was beautiful so we celebrated it
We picked up our charcoal and sketched what we saw
On rock faces we painted the plains and the creatures
The world was beautiful and we could draw
~
The world was powerful and we worked with it
We forged our tools and sculpted the stone
We carved our beautiful people and our celestial figures
The world was powerful and we made it our own
~
The world was changing and we grew with it
We saw God in our paint and we immersed ourselves wholeheartedly
We pursued higher knowledge and rejoiced when we found it
The world was changing and we embraced it all unflinchingly
~
The world industrialized and we kept up with it
We could photograph the ever changing landscape
Everything was art and we could capture it all
The world industrialized and there was no escape
~
The world rejected beauty and we suffered for it
The paint was old, the sculptures too realistic
We saw God in nothing and sought to see Him in less
The world rejected beauty and we went along with it
~~~
About the Creator
C.Z.
A slightly inspired, barely motivated, lover of fact and fiction
Fair Exchange, No Robberies
Dark Memoirs - Index There are at least two kinds of people in the world: those who write this half-arsed kind of intro to a story that looks to separate the rare and the norm, and those who realise it's an overused framing device and don't.
By Paul Stewart7 days ago in Chapters
Comments (5)
Love your poem
I ❤️ art and artists and poets. Happy to subscribe to your work.
Eloquent & Powerful!
Bold and authentic!!! Wonderfully expressed!!!
Oooo, this was so profound! Loved your poem!