Gulsher john - Modernism

Like
an Arctic wind
that makes the southern shores
barren and bald;
so is the new dawn;
eclipsed by Eris' charm.
Now
I can't hear those night wind songs, but
the swash of retreating hope and
of overwhelming fear.
In such uncertainty i draw;
some broken images
in a phrasing stark.
As our fragmented sight-
in this alcoholic haze;
could not accomplish the blessings
of ART,
neither in rhymes nor in rants.

Gulsher john

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/modernism/