Cloudy Sky

CLOUDY SKY Cloudy sky Say no more to us About rain to come. For acrid are your lies, And by your rhetoric speech No more are we enthralled. For, this perennial drought, On pages, in archives lies. For rain to come, In vain revelry the farmers wait. For no wages, like a serf in the Corn field they toil. Your oath of fealty you scorned And in the belly of sectarianism It erodes. Cloudy sky. Say no more us About rain to come For the seedlings from drought’s Heat wilt and by the arbor of your Cloud eclipsed are the dreams of The saplings, etiolated in gloom For sunlight they grope. Cloudy sky Say no more to us About rain to come. Cloudy sky Say no more to us About rain to come. For horrid are your lies. See, The fettle faces that cheered You to the pinnacle now shrink From dearth. Wane, once glaring Eyes in their hollow socket cringe. Languid now are those sprightly Hands that lifted you from the craddle To your apogee. From your wanton revelry the thunder Claps and into the serenity of the famished It cuts as with parched throat for the opening Of the sky’s door for even a trickle they wait. Gnarled children from famine on the scrawny Backs of their mothers berth, And with baleful eyes for them The scavengers wait. Cloudy sky. Say no more to us, About rain to come.