Morrow Downs[1]

Where dwelt a soul,
a limpid shell enclosed,
a mind surveyed,
a heart once timid beat
in rhythm with
long misplaced hopes.

Where has inspiration fled and why?

Where weary warriors lie in state,
eyes glazed and bodies taut,
restless souls, their fate
prepare to meet,
a fickle public
passing by.

 Where has inspiration fled and why?

 Silos hollow,
hallowed ground untrod,
fetid water puddles
amidst dark alleys
where once did
glorious banners fly.

 Where has inspiration fled and why?