Ungrateful

How many more grains

From the hourglass of my life

Before the sieve of your

Greedy hands is full?

How many more jolts and

Convulsions of this tired

Beating drum of my affection

Before the discordant

Overture of your would-be

Birdsong takes wing?

How many more nights shall I be

The flickering candle to the

Moth of your blind ambitions?

Must I be, like you, a corpse hanging

Naked from a cross, dripping blood,

Crowned with shame, scapegoat of

The whole world’s blame before

The rage of this injustice is

Pacified and tamed?

Reviews

[MCS]

There comes the moment when enough is enough and one finds the courage to speak and demand the floor without interruption. Solid piece of writing dear poet.

[John the Baptist]

Talk about righteous outrage! I don't know to whom this protest is addressed, but they have apparently crossed a line that must not be crossed. I have a feeling it is an unfaithful lover, but it could also be political. The Good Friday imagery makes me even more uncertain.

[Ms claws]

Here I am to do a return review, my liege (;
Wow! You begin with such power, I am struck by the strength of your words, your attitude is certainly not playing here. Your comparing to a cross execution is extremely shaking.
You have chosen a performance of accusatory and requite. Very impressive! I leave relieved I am not the one at the opposite end of your wrath. Awesome piece, sir!

[Laz K.]

Haha, well said, but consider the possibility that the speaker is calling him/herself ungrateful.

Appreciate you reading and commenting!

[Ms claws]

Laz K. Aha! I see that now! Thanks and my pleasure.

[Lara]

This piece is very interesting. Impassioned. Imploring. And visceral.