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