Ode To Ayer's Rock

The setting sun pagoda bold
My arms entrenched
Kiss the southern prophet
Profits of a silverreached nation
Words of the disturbed
Written in the storming sands
The clouds engulf my sorrow flicker
And mockery persists through eyes that shine
Industry breeds jealousy and ignorance
Castaway greed
Bleeding in the hearts of a thousand poets
Young of the earth earth of salt
God of sun son of god
Who believes he hopes he knows
What tears heaven holds in infinite industry
Collapsing melancholy
For lapsing into makebelieve
The daydream saints of nowhere are held
Upon distant clouds clouding upon distance
And dissonance relieved
For all three powers
Suffering ambition and divinity
They are drawn and given
Sacrifice to sacrifice
Scribed in the stillness
Of Ayer's Rock