Pensive Death in Lamentation
Beyond the clamour of the day,
Lapped by shadows, cool as castle stone,
Bowing melodies that chill the bone,
Death the fiddler robed in black dost play.
Through the ages’ unabated walk,
Giving voice to saccharine delight,
Music borne upon the silky night,
Rising swift to heaven as the hawk…
Pensive underneath the barren trees,
Searching through old memories of joy,
Once upon a dream I was a boy!
Playing on the green in summer breeze.
Now, a new vocation — mournful death,
Lamentations floating on the breeze,
Maudlin at the pang of our disease,
Woeful for the spite that marks our breath.
I would cast ye from my yoke indeed,
But the weight of sin provokes my brain,
For I know the reason of your pain,
And would bring deliverance if freed.
But the crushing anger hurt me sore,
Even servants of mine fate didst see,
All the wounds that mark iniquity,
Blighting mine fair face and shapely jaw.
I must stand in witness to it all,
Honouring lost man in mangled plight,
Faithful through the day and listless night—
Marking hate extending from the fall.
Till the stars be plucked from out the sky,
When the end of days dost march in doom,
All the saints encased within the tomb—
Lonely I’ll be playing by and by…
ADL
adamdaniel 