"The Pastures Beyond"--just wrote it

Seized with a sudden impulse and a strong surge of anarchism, I wrote this poem just now.

THE PASTURES BEYOND

Within a fence there lies a pasture,

The grass brown and dead, bereft of life,

And beyond the fence is lush and plentiful,

Though the sheep they do remain.

The shepherd, seeking revenue and peace for himself,

Bids them stay.

The sheep are restless, and some bleat for freedom,

And those who do vanish, confined to their own,

And the sheep fall silent.

Time crawls on, and the snows come and go,

And the sheep munch their second-rate grass,

The fields beyond forgotten.

The shepherd sits and counts his gold,

While the sheep graze on in ignorance,

Not needing the shepherd, though lied to into submission,

And if the sheep sicken, the shepherd cares,

Though only to patch his pocket holes.

Were the shepherd to vanish, the sheep would know freedom,

Though this they are not to know, as they chew their dead grass,

While the pastures beyond lie cold and empty,

Where the shepherd has ensured that none will venture.

 

No one?

 

Sounds like you are describing many goverments around the world, keeping thier populations in the dark about the wonderful places that lay just beyond their boarders.

 

Freedom forever!

 

I didn't mean it as literally as that; the shepherd is many governments, certainly, but the pastures beyond aren't other countries, they were meant to represent the realms of freedom and disobedience, really.

 

OK, so I was half right.