Those icy trinkets in the
dark
Here they come to cleave me
Of my earthly presence!
Those bolts of lightning
Like a silvery snake
Seek to assuage my cloven destiny!
And it is
against this ashen pale
Horizon that one falls into gloom
Over that sob spot of my absence.
It’s that lightning then, or
Rather the raindrops still
That swarms into a silent mutiny.
For they seek revolt, not
Seek liberty in their effort
To be of use to mankind’s whims.
But, hey,
how have we used them-
Lowering ourselves in their midst
To arrest their brutal retort and
soundless screams!
No comments:
Post a Comment