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Sightseer? Seer?

Poetry By: Graeme Montrose


Submitted:Oct 19, 2009    Reads: 155    Comments: 6    Likes: 5   

Sightseer? Seer?
I stand within these ruins now
A sightseer they say
I came I saw and then moved on
Too many sights to see
Within these dusty broken stones
I saw what once had been
The glory and the splendour too
The opulence and power
A city of the gods they said
Its riches without bound
The heart of all the lands around
Its' grandeur ne'er to wane
A monument to man's greatness
Though now reduced to sand
But time has passed, the centauries flown
And now remains but this
Forgotten but in ancient tomes
It's influence now passed
To dust and sand they all return
As time ticks ever by
Relentlessly the clock strikes on
As all is passed away
Still yet remaining through all time
The achievement man can have
His words and deeds live on and on
Though monuments decay
A kindly deed, a loving act
A word that's fitly spoke
These take a life unto themselves
And live with us today
Such seeds create a world unseen
Not in our carnal plane
A world as real as that we walk
Though few can see it now
A world beyond the sight of men
A world the seer knows
Where all these actions now do build
A world without its par
Do you but see what lies before?
In earthly planes like this
The buildings made of steel and stone
That crumbles into dust
Or do you see the world unknown
Created by your deeds
Your words and actions day by day
They build beyond the veil
Your actions like the stone that's tossed
Cause ripples in the sea
The sea of life that we live in
The ripples travel through
Just like the sound waves travelling on
Through space and time as well
Your words they journey on and on
Their influence unbound
A Seer sees what others can't
The sightseer not so
A poet like the seer sees
He puts his sight to pen
The love and anguish of the day
He writes in silver words
He paints a picture with his words
That others clearer see
The bard he sings of what has been
The past he keeps alive
The seer tells what is to come
In no uncertain terms
The poet lives and dies with us
His words reflect our lives
The poet is a seer of sorts
He sees life as it is
Some travel miles to see the sights
The continents will pass
Yet all around us sights remain
The inner soul of men
The poet is a seer true
He opens others eyes
His words can change what is to be
They help us look within
The pain and suffering we see
The torments of the mind
He paints these pictures
Dark and harsh
A vision out of Hades
He sees the dew drop on the rose
The child's laugh at play
The love that passes between eyes
The sorrow and the joy
He writes of elves and fairies too
Of unicorns and such
The beauties of the unseen world
The fables of time passed
He writes of evils in the world
Corruption and its like
The hypocrisy we see so clear
In every path of life
He tries to share his vision clear
To all that walks the earth
Though few do heed his timely words
Yet still he lifts his pen
A seer not of sights I say
A seer deep within
A seer into heart and soul
A seer of our time


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