The Path of Pain
Among the waving palm-filled shoresOf Shaka's ancient land
I met a man
Who, beckoning,
Took me by the hand
Without a word he guided me
Leading me through the night
Never pausing
Never ceasing
'Til dark gave way to light
Until we stopped within a glade
Of emerald and of teak
Where the old man
Turned to me
And soft began to speak:
And through his gently soothing voice
He lulled me into sleep
With unheard words
And cadences
That resonated deep
"Many a man has passed this way
On many a fated quest,
Many a dream
Has floundered here
And all have found no rest.
"For all have sought a phantom crown
A glittering golden prize
That deep within
The blackened earth
In silent contempt lies
"But driven by their heart's disease,
That never can be cured,
By Midas dreams,
By Avarice
They are forever lured.
"For those who've sought the path of wealth
Have trod the path of pain
The cursèd seam
Beneath the earth
Is Africa's golden stain.
Poetry by Steve Hagget
Read 1020 times
Written on 2006-09-17 at 11:29
Tags Nature Africa Greed
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