Darkling Plains by Lana Broussard

Oh that calm seathe cliffs of England near distant

perpetual lull

of incoming tides

sand and pebbles dance

if you listen

you can hear

that eternal note of sadness

coming eventide

In this vast, northern sea

emanating in shadowy depths below

that which Sophocles knew

the bane of human misery

washed from The Sea of Faith

salty tears shed

and in all the world

those paltry lands of dreams

absent are joy, love, light

no help for all that ails

and out on that darkling plain

those ignorant armies still clash

and separate the world we have

from one that might have become

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