Found Poem.
Lines taken from The Lord of the Flies.
“The Battle Within”
Mankind’s essential illness:
The end of innocence, the darkness of man’s heart.
The threat of violence, fear and loneliness, overwhelming importance.
The age-long nightmares of falling and death.
A sorrow that was universal.
Words could not express the dull pain of these things.
Fear and Rage; his personal hell.
Displaced and brooding, hardened by an accustomed tread–They’re hopeless.
Like trees that found too little soil for full growth, fell early, and decayed.
The knowledge and awe made him savage–he did not like to remember it.
The best thing to do was to ignore this leaden feeling about the heart.
Shame would burn them at admitting these things.
The trouble was, you only had one chance.
The dismal truth was filtering through.
The fire was out, smokeless and dead. The tears had washed the sand away.
And at last light, sad and grey, he discovered, with a little fall of the heart,
The wearisomeness of this life.
