"We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time." (T S Eliot)
"A dark and chanted verse is what I am." (
Forough Farrokhzad)

Sunday, January 26, 2014

MERCY

What brings you to this loathsome place
Where black dogs bark and guilt abounds?
Weren’t you once led by skill and drive
In topmost surrounds?

I came here for my redemption
Yet I was miserably misled.
There’s no forgiveness for mistakes,
So my soul is dead.

The victims call for execution
Of we who bled losses unseen.
They howl for gore and restitution.
Why should I be mean?

But surely there’s much more to life
Than dwelling on an unjust past?
You’ve tales to tell and verse to craft -
Lines of hope to cast.

But don’t you know the pain and shame?
Only I see doubt in every face.
Even though I know tedious truths
I see no earned grace.

And few seek works from my weak heart,
Most think they reek of pose and mime.
And the sages of our dazzling age
Reject me every time.

Then there’s no hope my wan lost friend.
I will weep to see your body sleep.
Your ashes I’ll give to kinder hands -
To feed the oceans deep.



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