From Dust We Rise
From dust we rise, to dust our footsteps bend; At length we cut the cord and turn away. The soil remains our first and final end, From fields of truth to worlds of glaring gray. Feel me—freedom lives within the open field; And until we, like cold machine tools, grind and spin. The state may promise peace it cannot yield, And let the numbness of the screen creep in. Until the seat of soul is dead to pain, The glowing screen becomes a mere glass tool, And shadows on its surface seem like the rain, A passing cloud that slowly drifts from rule. The healing earth, the mountain, and the shade: Will man return to claim the peace He made? ----Affaq #ForeverSonnets #PoetAffaq #PoemHunterDotComAffaq #MysticalPoeyry #SonnetByAffaq