The Promised Land

The Promised Land

Looking around, you could never tell
This iron-choked capital wasteland,
Hemorrhaged, troubled and tense, trembling,
Was once a nation's dream.
This was a nation that while yet unfounded
Gleamed in noble glory in its citizens' thoughts,
Built in their forerunning mindscapes upon
Bedrock of liberty, truth and opportunity.
These patriots, though they might bemoan this state of disrepair,
Are those whose hopes are not so easily crushed,
Who like their brave blooded scions still recall
The near-forgotten brightness of that vision.
In the darkness of time, there are those who sleep and dream
Of the promised land, hinted at by dawn's early light --
These are they whom despair cannot wake.