The mortal fragments in me,
I sweep across creaky floors
The weak mortal in me
seeks defy your decree
I judge destiny
I grow arrogant
I query your law
seek an answer
spurn a hug
Little arms trusted once.
I pile up my grief
Layered in detail
I eke an year out
And the mean mortal in me
Demands unriddle your plan
I refuse to weep
As you continue to roll
A tumultuous destiny
I rebel at your
careless patronage
You still stay silent
And my mortal patience
Gushes into quick waves of rage
Just as I push away the platter
Of measured remains you offer
Hear I Your muffled grief
Harder than my mortal one
And I endure
The agony with which
Your immortal tear
Hits my mortality
What a way to make the immortal mortal. Sometimes you sound atheist sometimes devout.Lady you will be a riddle ever.
ReplyDeleteToo pious to qualify as devout, too sinful to afford to be atheist.
ReplyDeletenice line "hits my mortality" but lollypop your head is tough to understand for me.
ReplyDeleteThanks.The head is tough only on the outside, soft head.
ReplyDelete