whatever I said then
here I am
it was too much to take in
woe woe woe
now I remember
high and lifted up
nothing but the pining
look but do not perceive
feathers in my throat
each one had six wings
hollow in my bones
one cried unto another
who can save us from God
the great forsaking
who comes in smoke
the posts of the doors are shaking
gives fire for water
how long
not bread but a stone
how long
strips the terebinth down to its stock
how long
until the city is wasted
the suckling forsaken
and the holy left utterly desolate
send me
Comments