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The Second Coming
BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
The Velveteen Ocelot
(115,718 posts)mikalcharles
(87 posts)The Orange Man
waves his tiny hand
and scrapes our senses dry
So much benumbed
turned deaf and dumb
We die, we die, we die
The Orange Beak
begins to speak
but all it says is "I"
Our mouths agape
we cannot escape
We die, we die, we die
The Orange Beast
knowing less than least
ponders the evening sky
We wait in vain
(He has no brain)
We die, we die, we die
The Velveteen Ocelot
(115,718 posts)WhiteTara
(29,718 posts)great poetry.
malaise
(269,020 posts)and welcome to DU
yonder
(9,666 posts)PA Democrat
(13,225 posts)bluestarone
(16,959 posts)hwmnbn
(4,279 posts)Perfect...Welcome to DU...