If I Were a Grave
Never would you fall as a tear
falling from heavens gates
to my benevolence gestures
though, won't I allow you to drop
as the dry leaves of sequoia
from your utmost blissful height
dangling and vacillating - helplessly
staring upward the northern sunlight
as you loose the essence of life
but not to feel culpable
if I were a grave yard
I'd spit you up to see God's face.
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