Under dark ominous clouds...
Thoughts of mine rowing with Being Celestial
His Voice melodic, earnest... seemingly terrestrial:

Grieve we must grieve over hearts buried...
Those hurriedly engaged yet slyly unhurried,
Over wasteland... in the brain land,
And, the lips that are hectic, yet uncaring...

Grieve we must grieve over "self-love married..."
Those hurriedly absorbed in self,
Still, to others numb and unhurried,
Minds intoxicated with hatred venom
Voyages taken into the land of deception,
Where values are robbed of pure color and merit
Earthlings stuck in sands of mystified sadness
Soaking up all with thirsty sponge of madness,
All embraced with an arm of toleration
Each value has fluid face and coloration.

Grieve we must grieve over sinister machination
The illusory needs that leave
The dim-witted head with dire starvation...
On dusty roads vacant eyes staring...
Fell in the grime! for all was mine!
Burning hurriedly with burned out imagination
Not grieving over short-lived... vain machination.

Grieve we must grieve over hearts buried
Over wasteland... in the brain land...
(Unthinking of the final thought...)
And the hands busy yet uncaring.

.............................................................................................
Woe to me if I do not speak of Thee!
If the heart stays un-free, and the mind is on me...
Woe to me!
Not to "know" only... but to believe... to believe...
Averting eyes from thrill-seeking
Imminent, ominous mischief...
Forever fed from the Hand of the Sacred Lamb...