Automatons I

The guiding Star Blessedly not afar Yet, ideal bit by bit Falling on earth's crust, Unhearing stones, Unmoved by Spirit's Gust Moment by moment dying Inch by inch sliding By flauntingly lying, Dwelling on barren zone Land ill-omened Relishing ghoulish dryness Instead of quenching thirst From the Spring of Water Finest Breed hasty opinions As ruinous minions The heavenly bestowed gift Used for demoralizing rift, Swamped in vice throng Smudged slope of right and wrong - The robber of hope In need of gallant rooting To nurture abundant harvest - Firm virtuous footing. Deserting grasslands of life and love, Life-giving, life-receiving Self-giving, grateful receiving; On a haunting landslide of venal spree A mainland, inland grievously un-free.