A Song, Long Ago

So this song you sung so softly,
Has created cities and cars, constructed cathedrals and cinemas,
A hoard of humanity, holy and humbled,
Beneath you.

So this song you sung so sweetly,
Has erupted evolving echoes of everything,
You dreamed so deeply, so dearly,
Beneath you.

So this song you sung so sadly,
Has begun wars.
Has slain women.
Has withheld wonder, from so many,
Beneath you.

So this song you sung so solemnly,
Has lived in lives, and lies, lamented
In promises preached from philanderers plundering peapod philosophy,
Beneath you.

So this song you sung so sceptically,
Has made man,
Has made machine,
Has manifest,
Imagination instrumenting ions of inspiration,
Beneath you.

And this song you sung so long ago,
Is gradually, gracefully, going,
Home. Holding hands with,
Destiny and Darkness and Death, dutifully
Bowing,
Beneath you.