Past the broken down tractors
Past the randomly discarded farm implements
Over the heather moor, beyond the peat bog
Past the rebuilt black houses
Past the new houses, with abandoned static caravans
Humankind losing its desire for aesthetic beauty
Perhaps this is what a hard life brings
Years of cutting peat or catching fish
Years of toil before this current time
Work in support of the leisured classes
Perhaps the years of hardship
Coupled with regular shrouds of mist and rain
Combine to build an island consciousness
Where survival & shelter comes first
Life’s uncertain base, comes a long way first
This is not then the place for we seekers
Seekers of the peak
The peak of the self realisation pyramid
