The Black Cross
I SPOT a lofty black cross
Standing conceitedly on a rock-strewn mount,
Where nothing akin to a tree can be seen,
Murky clouds hovering over it,
It is on this cross that she will
Sacrifice me for the sake of love
I OBSERVE dry as a bone grass,
That left chasing precious emerald existence
Because the master of life-rain
Could not depart the lucrative comfort of cloud nine
To reprieve underprivileged earthlings;
As the sunburned grass sever to shreds,
I perceive her love for me fading
Radically till nothing of it remains,
She tramples upon me unfeelingly
WHEN I raise my eyes to meet up hers,
Tears COURSE down my cheerless cheeks,
In her face I discern weariness, withdrawal.
She appears dull and outrageously sorrowful-
Conceivably I am a great irk to her,
She cannot let me feel her lips once more.
NOW alone I contemplate smoke rising,
I bathe myself in the glee of solitude,
Shrewd that hours of night must go a way
Paving way for hours of dawn that must also go a way;
That the putrid soul of mine
Possibly will one day be rapt and inspired
Though she has departed from me
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