The vicious circle

Earth is an image
Crumpled up, thrust away
Left hidden in memories
Calling out in distain

As Oscar Wilde's Dorian
All potrayed was its shame
It own foul destruction
Caused by what one could say

Thats right one may say
At the slide of ones tongue
Sly words tumble out
Though their uses seem numb.

Numb to meaning
Numb to mind
Numb to purpose
Reason or time

Numb to that which
degrades and forgets
Numb to that which
Learns not and regrets

Despite the truths
Which were argued in time
One could not decide...
Power only declined.