Joseph TimoneySmith - A Survivor

A field that lies where no one lies
A field that is not lush nor crisp
A field that nought is jealous of this

it is an orphan field, shunned and left
burnt and battered and buried and been
No flower, no orchid, no rose
kept a single blade of green

A field that tastes no water
A field plagued with crusty soil
A field with no plant loyal

Yet this limp blade persevered,
through harsh season long
A long spectre
Its brothers all gone

A field with innocence unjustly ignored
A field that has no point or reason
A field who's own weeds commit treason

Its a pendulous thing, that weeps with wind
An insignificant green who's cries are not heard
A flake of heaven in hell
All are knowing but none have ever murmured

A field that will eternally slumber
A field so torn like men of old
A field weeping, so clear and bold

Rarely it thinks about the event
The field turned red where it lay
The sky blackned and death filled the air
as the heavens turned away

Joseph TimoneySmith

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-survivor-3/