The Query

And shall I into deeper silence pass Decomposed to dust, my being denied As if I was just a mere blade of grass And all my kingdom's pride, nothing last My meaning and existence a strange void Like every glory that through time has past Shall there be no fury when the hawk clasp My breath in terror? Say, who decide This dread demise ... the demon mouthed asp Slithering around my birth, the smooth glass Of my illusions? Who is there to chide? Why upon me Adam's burden should pass I, who renounced his sin, must bear his mass And for what then was the Christ crucified? Should not I this blind cul-de-sac surpass And be translated to that sea of glass Where self in eternity may abide And my origin its purpose at last For God in me leave not nor can subside