The Truth of Perfection (London Skyline)
For you to feel as you feel right
What shall I seek if not perfection from a city that can teach me only this;
That there is no such a thing as perfection.
To glisten under sunlit rays,
Sparkling and beauteous at every moment,
Flowing gradually onwards
Accompanied by the coaxing cry of the crow;
But flow into deathly, decaying darkness,
Staining the crystal character
For the use of… If only I knew
Why we change our direction from right to wrong.
You do not belong in this deathly darkness.
Escape from the shadows.
For the shadow of a city lies not in the wondering shield above
But the hearts of its damned inhabitants.
Though smoke can fade and noise be silenced
And the sun shine down on a crowded road
No power can melt an iced heart;
No hammer destroy an unbreakable rock.
I look not at the city but those who dwell within.
I see a rag whose eyes seek a gaze
But a lost child’s cry is not caught by passing waves.
If only all were like you and me
Who could walk along side each other happily.
Then we can admire what is in our sight
What is bright and beautiful from day to night.
Not like many brothers do green fields seek asylum
But their beauty is lost on closed eyes.
Only in this fair city can noise and pollution
Sit aside peace and harmony.
I sit in a field aside a Gipsy Road
And look out upon the heart of our beating city.
Why can you not see what I see?
The creative vision of generations merging together to create…
The London skyline!
The wind murmurs of past glory
But as each memory is replaced by today’s monster
The wind draws silent.
But within every monster burns an Olympic flame
That no dark or damp surrounding could dream to put out.
Behind every mask is an unknown name
A lowly voice that tries to shout.
What do I see before my eyes?
I do not know. Do you?
Is it great or is it not?
Is it crowded or is it efficient?
At times I feel like a mouse in a Dickens maze
Trapped in cramped, crowded conditions;
Trapped in a raging blaze
Unable to find my way to the sanctuary I know is there.
If London was a mathematical sum,
The answer would be zero
For every inch of darkness is matched by equal beauty;
Every rag met by a cloth.
When you open your eyes to creatures unknown
You see ice can be melted and rocks be cracked.
Out of a monster, angels have grown
For where one believed sentiment lacked
It lies when it is needed.
The meaning of the word human is not to be completely perfect
But perfect to oneself and only that.
For beauty to lie within a created wall,
Those among need to keep that extract so.
So once again I know this is true;
That there is no such a thing as perfection
So it has been said.
About the Creator
Joshua Lino-da Costa
I've been writing for years. Not always great... but it means a lot to me
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.