Goddamn your hope,
And your gentle body washing across the sea.
While we fell into the abyss, you told me,
“When we come across that bridge we’ll cross it”
And lean sick bodies began to fall into us.
An open wound,
Like a river, they came rushing down,
They fill the streets with shouts of glory
While God was peering through the gloomy sky.
There was no light,
Yet we saw clearly.
An obscure scene
Of pilgrims marching through the same stream of existence
Just like the rest of us, yet different.
They let the wind carry them,
And we, we do resist.
For an image of a star shooting across the sky.
We froze there waiting,
One on top of the other,
Staring into the other’s eyes.
Time is passing,
And trains rumbled right from under us.
They erupted into river streams,
Satisfying the thirst of a nation.
Each year they came,
Staggering and half drunk,
They seek water,
Right from under our feet.
It is filled with salt,
And other absurd divinities.
Then they crawl back into the desert,
And worship the sun, and the light.
While God is pleading through the heavens.
“O eternally beloved,
When thou art nigh,
None can be of harm.”
The shouts grew louder,
And we fell into the noise.
And child, you told me,
You whispered into my ear,
When the waves came crushing down,
And wrecked your bones,
“We want to live!
We want to prosper!”
And you held your tiny fist up between the clouds,
And shouted into my soul,
“Goddamn your hope!”
And the harrowing sounds still echo.
They bounce against walls,
And fall into the wrong deaf ears…