DustA Poem by The TheyLook beneath your feet...The wanderer follows No hallowed path Set forth for her By the sagacious few. Nor does she live To build her past For far off futures Whose seeds are sewn.
No familiar face Has she ever seen That greets her where She decides to sleep But travels with The wind in her hair: The only companion She chooses to keep.
All empires return To dust that birthed Them from the nothingness Of barren ground, And push the ambitious To build them tall For fleeting futures On foundations unsound.
Such men still laugh At one like her Who possesses nothing In their eyes, Of shifting destiny With no respect For human lies.
But no future goal Controls her fate Nor worldly tethers Bind her past So she is free To contemplate Her relation to The earth so vast.
She is the dust from God’s fingers that’s fallen on Ungrateful land And shows the blind And sinful people Their origin from The present at hand.
They deride and mock Or at best ignore her And value what God Did not confer But she is more than the earth and sky And none can take What belongs to her. © 2012 The TheyAuthor's Note
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6 Reviews Added on February 3, 2012 Last Updated on February 3, 2012 AuthorThe TheyCambridge, MAAboutI am the most normal person you will ever meet. I am a man who aspires to gain no one's attention. My greatest dream is to stagnate in a cubical in some routine 9 to 5 job while wearing a suit. My pri.. more..Writing
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