Anonymous / 12
That last day I walked those halls,
I memorized, in my head, every sight and smell --
Stored it like a sacred star.
And saw those vested men from afar
As they began to crush and fell
This world, despite my tortured calls.
Here hung those photos in their frames
Of wanderers for whom, as for me,
The pain is bitingly unbearable
And the beauty, wrenchingly terrible.
Their faces, their lives, I want to see,
and their feelings, dreams, hopes -- their names.
Here were quelled a thousand coups.
Here were written a thousand tracts.
Back there were held a thousand trysts
By a thousand newly smitten sophists.
Here we learnt a thousand facts.
Here we danced, romping a thousand shoes.
This entire world was once awake:
Here were shed a thousand tears;
Here, in lead, are a thousand sketches;
Here did sigh a thousand kvetches;
Here went by a thousand years.
This entire world is now forsaken.
And an entire world below this tired ground.
Storied remnants uncovered:
The fractured brainpan
Of a forgotten metalman.
Our selves discovered,
Our heritage finally found.
An entire world rendered formless.
An entire world
Reduced to rubble
Yet living on in a thousand minds.