- 9 February 2020
- Poetry & Prose Collection
- No Comments
In a midden on the street,
With steel shackles to his feet,
Lay a broken man, unknown.
At his head ,was graved in stone :
“This is what you did for love;
“This your father from above;
“This your father lying here;
“This is why I shed a tear. ”
In his hand a yellow Rose;
On his chest a book of prose;
On his head a crown of Red;
At his side, a child, betrayed !
As the Sun dripped overhead,
People shuddered, wept in dread.
Women gathered as to pray;
Saw the child arise and say:
“Now, beware, your Time attain;
“All of you will bear the pain
“For your wretched disobey;
“You shall meet Him on this day !”
And, at once, the clouds attend;
All there present, children ,men;
None forgot, but take in haste.
Each one singled out for chaste;
Each alone cried out ” I bleed !”
Each one crying out “I need !”
Darkness came, and took away
All the Souls of Yesterday.
Sent from my iPod