b&w meadow flowers against sky

Photo by Alexey Demidov on Unsplash

Elysian Fields by Brendan Smith

Though the fires burn around them,

And the faces scowl and scream

In the Elysian fields

Life is but a dream


And they dance and sing and laugh

As the fury pecks at her prey

And the joy sits next to torture

Just like every day


Tantalus starves outside

In earshot of the feast

But their glee drowns out the sound

They pretend it does at least


Orpheus sings his song

Says music makes the world go

The wrecks outside the wall

They can’t hear the show


Though the fires burn around them,

And the faces scowl and scream

In the Elysian fields

Life is but a dream


Sisyphus, his daily labor

Takes him to the top of the hill

Where he can see the well rested

People eat their fill


Theseus, he is a hero

There’s no doubt in their minds

And if anyone was in trouble

He’d cross the sea just to be kind


And he waits in his palace

As the terrors wait outside

And longs for the old days

When he helped the ones who cried


Every hero in the book

And some books forgot about

All known for fighting evil

All known to throw it out


Why do they lay idle

While some suffer in the fire

Is it from lack of knowledge

Or a lack of desire


But I’ll tell you why they don’t

Help the pour souls that are beset.

How many are condemned with the words

“They deserve what they get”


Its easy to be a saintly

As a rich man or a king

For all Oedipus’s problems

Royal life’s an easy thing


And they look down on the dregs

Who never had a chance

Who were never taught no better

Who were plagued by circumstance


And they say that they deserve it

For being born and raised and led

The only way they could be

Getting just water and bread


But they never helped the people

With the powers they could wield

They just sent bad men to fire

Which made them worthy of the Fields


And walled in paradise

With every scar and wound healed

Thinking bad men got their due

They enjoyed Elysian Fields


And lore and myth got passed down

With stories of sword and shield

Of the paradise in H—

Of the Elysian fields


So once the lowly were evicted

And when all the money was spent

A man used Elysian Fields

As the name of his development


And they say the low deserve it

As they idly ignore

All the people being tortured

Because to whom they were bore


Though the smokestacks burn around them

And the faces scowl and scream

Walled in the Elysian Fields

Life is but a dream


Bio

Brendan Smith is writer from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. He is currently a Physics Major at Albright College in Reading.