The Spaniard and the tear

He just stood there, I know not why.
With a solitary tear escaping his eye
A river of anguish encapsulated within
A lifetime’s agony, corruption and sin.

Stolen from his heart, the tear rolls
Further down his cheek, then holds
Position, fixed almost staring
Longingly hoping for freedom’s caring

Arm to caress him, release all fear.
But now he realises the end is near
And it stops, drops from the end
Of his scarred mouth, to attend

Some other funeral of emotion.
Dissolves, and becomes an ocean
Of terror, fate, left to live
In the sea of despair and
Self-deprivation, and
Converts to loving devotion?

It came Ex Nihilo into existence
But it had to compete, put up resistance
Against the calling of St. Peter
But ‘Nadie puede oír que grita’

The Spaniard and the tear

jax90

Joined January 2008

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