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
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