Under dark ominous clouds
Thoughts are rowing with Being Celestial
His Voice melodic, earnest, seemingly terrestrial:
Grieve we must grieve over hearts buried...
Hurriedly engaged... yet, slyly unhurried,
Over wasteland... in the brain land,
And, the lips hectic... yet, uncaring.
Grieve we must grieve over "self-love married"
Those hurriedly absorbed in self,
Yet, to others numb and unhurried,
Minds intoxicated with hatred venom,
Voyages taken into land of deception,
Where values are robbed of pure color and merit
Earthlings stuck in sands of mystified sadness
Soaking up "all" with thirsty sponge of madness;
All embraced with an arm of toleration,
Each "value" has fluid face or coloration.
Grieve we must grieve over sinister machination
The illusory needs and cravings that leave
The dim-witted cravers with dire starvation...
On dusty roads, vacant eyes staring...
Fell in the grime! for all was "mine"!
Burning hurriedly with burned out imagination,
Not grieving over short-lived, vain machination.
Grieve we must grieve over hearts buried
Over wasteland... in the brain land...
(Unthinking of the Final Thought...)
And, the hands busy, yet uncaring...
.................................................................................................
Woe to me if I do not speak of Thee!
If the heart is unfree...
And, the mind is on me,
Woe to me!
Not to know only,
But to believe...
To believe...
Averting eyes from
Thrill-seeking, imminent
Ominous mischief...
Forever fed from
The Hand
Of the Sacred Lamb...