Modern Myth: Green Fields

Green Fields 

As I walk 
The green fields 
Of dawn that glistens 
with dew drops, listen 
To the softest 
tread I make upon 
the now awake blade 
And breath the 
morning air 
full of sweet 
Revolution still. 

When I walk 
The green fields 
Of noon-time 
Feel the burning 
heat of highest 
Sun, uplifted 
the top-most pedestal 
arrayed in thousand 
blinding rays 
That dried 
the budding carpet 
Upon I bathed, I toiled 
though the light 
then led the way 
The landscape 
Picturesque 
was melted away. 

So now I walk 
The green fields 
Of night, where starlight 
glows dim 
To hopes, to grass 
that thirsts 
Unquenched 
To pyrite light 
as gleamed 
Those golden apples 
To stale old breath 
that tinged 
With cremated dreams 
too soon 
breath fades, then silence.