19 April 2014

Sabbath Wrest

Hope lies cold and dead entombed,
Deep despair grasps for its loss,
Brokenness in shadows hides.
Much expected—nothing came.

Haunted by the sounds and sights—
Soldiers, priests and shouting crowd;
Questions by the flick'ring fire.
Courage needed—nothing came.

Haunted by that fireside look,
Crowing rooster's mocking cry;
Dismal failure wracks the mind.
Love was needed—nothing came.

Hide away, for cringing shame.
Hide away, in fear and dread.
Hide away, to weep and mourn.
Much was promised—nothing came.

Copyright © 2014 Desmond Hilary