The Dark Land

 

Surveying this place I tend to ponder

What it means to be torn asunder,

Divided between two unlike worlds

And no-man's land where the bagpipes skirl.

 

On one hand the fires burn so high

As to illuminate an empty sky.

On the other, myriad darkened places

Embrace broad ranks of fearful faces.

 

Their hopes serve merely to calm their fears,

Born of longing so many years,

As glowing fields of distant flame

Promise Utopia, and an end to shame.

 

Beyond their fences, gnarled and rent,

The fields of stars are heaven-sent;

Shining out in vivid hues

The burnt ones stare with naught to lose.

 

One by one they test the gate,

Each wary step a deal with fate

On the border-line that none perceive;

Their elders sigh and watch them leave.

 

Voyagers arrive as they started out,

Replete with harsh unease and doubt,

For the dark land's secrets are closely held;

Strong men ensure the cat's not belled