Promise of man
by Patrick Labaki
Night descends as ink upon the ancient scroll,
An ebon tide that drowns the light in silence,
Where once the sun did hold the sky,
Shadows swallow whole the dreams that daylight used to stream.
The earth itself, a barren moll,
Whispers through the twisted groves,
Roots, once deep within the soil, now claw at empty air,
As mother mourns the spirit lost, only despair.
From deeps arise forgotten beasts, eyes black hollow graves,
Roaming 'cross the fractured ground, waiting in unmarked caves.
Their criesᅳheavenly only to them, reverberate, unbound,
A thorned crown a tattered gown that shadow wraps around.
The darkness drops again; indeed, the wolf is at the door,
A fall. A snap, three thunderclaps, inhabitants no more,
No sphinx to question, nor to answer, in this fox's game
The center lost, the spiral tossed, our fate in Herods chain.