That is so utterly, utterly perfect. It captures the whole catastrophe. Thanks for posting it.
Can't help myself.......
TURNING and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
------W.B. Yeats
The Garden of LoveIt wasn't easy growing up Catholic, believe me.
William BlakeI went to the Garden of Love
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And Thou shalt no, writ over the door;
So I turn'd to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore,And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be:
And Priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars, my joys & desires.