The Modern Lament

" Living is not my solution

Dying is not my rest "

The black music splits the wrinkles of my hair
Spread to wings of coughing breeze
Love has become a heedless care
A molding fruit on facial tree
Bittered with rooted nightmare
The wails of dreams unease

The black music boils the steam of my blood
Flown to veins of shrinking groove
Sea has become a waving mud
A still dirt of silent move
Stepped with sluggish nod
The cripple of shores wove

The black music coils round the rim of my ears
My shuddered hearing and relapsing sound
Words became the uttered fears
A spoken hurt of quivered wound
Lettered for numerous years
And the rest of seasons unfound

The black music swims in my damaged nail
My rusty skin and weakened hand
Strength became the power pale
A faded slap of weakness grand
Thus courage tends to fail
And the threads of failure expand

The black music drinks my fallen sweat
My swollen bones and eaten skin
Life became the classy threat
Of real frown and claimed grin
Smiled dry the laments wet
Of joy distant and grief kin

The black music stirs in my miserable food
My poor soup and fake wine
Hunger became the only chewed
Swallowed of bitterness and whine
Even thirst is a fact stewed
Of hellish drops and curse divine

( C ) Copyright 2010 ADEL ATTIYEH