Page 113 - Contrast2013
P. 113
[The Great Lament...]
Mehar Segal
The great lament spreads across the sky
It drips blood, pieces of a fragmented reality
Toys of a child, carelessly strewn
By the paradigm of so-called “Today”
Why, when steam billows
Do we run to the source?
The edge beckons to sanity unwavering
In fact, lead to a mirror
Do we stop and think.
The killer lurks in the shadows
Vicinity nothing but a word
Just a lunge to break the crucible
Of our own word to God.
Sin shalt remain the mechanism
The machine powered yet cold
Burning from divergent paths
In hopes of false future promises.
Yet here I am
Standing in the midst
Contrast | 113
