A thousand years have passed
And parchment, scrolls, are dust.
Back into the earth goes truth
Lost for those to come.
The teacher spoke a truth- it burned
Bright at first, now faded.
A thousand years have passed.
The monk in silent thought
Wrote words in blood and ink
And parchment, scrolls, are dust.
The renaissance man proclaimed
Wisdom, bestowed on paint and ink;
Back into the earth goes truth.
Heavy curtained parlors, sweet letters
And a hungry fire in the hearth.
Lost, for those to come.
postscript
DFC day 13. Today's form is a Cascade. No rhyme scheme--you just write one stanza, however long, and then use the lines of that stanza at the end of the subsequent stanzas until you've used them all. The theme is that of how truth and thought are lost over thousands of years and we may never know the epiphanies of the ancients. As a Christian, of course, I believe everything God wished to preserve for the Bible was correctly preserved. That much is evident by the hundreds of manuscripts available. But how much more of secular thought have we never even heard of? kiwi-damnation.deviantart.com/…