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Sullen Sorrow

Weeping eyes dwell within--
temples of sullen sorrow.
Falling tears on earthen dust,
mold the visions of  their morrow.
Crumbling clumps of drying clay,
awaited destine of mournful shrines.
Woeful children in sanctum's hold --
sip cups filled with bitter wines.

Tainted brews of despairing fate,
stirred by willing hands of shame.
Each small portion greedily poured,
not one server accepts the blame
Abundant treasures in kingdom's hoard,
benevolence for hope ever denied.
Weary temples topple and fall--
consumed by tears that they've cried.

 Sanctums arrive imaging God;
blind pretense curses them all.
Uncaring depths of shallow souls,
turn about to suffering's call.
Wail of children beyond clear sight,
considered burdens few pretend to see.
Self-indulgent hail the pennies pledged,
loathsome smirch to each dying plea.

 Tending touch brings eternal's scorn,
death creeps inside bedding's rest
Makeshift pillows of sordid dread--
mocks the comfort of mothers breast
Trembled lament pierces the sky;
cradled in arms is the child she bore.
Shell of misery splattered with tears;
a bit of clay crumbles once more.

Haughty fascists with defiled hands,
heaping measures gathered to own.
Pity the tumbled without a hope;
come all forward off your throne.
Children cry from hunger's keep;
life is lost to trickles shared.
Lesson the sorrows formed in tears,
sanctum's temples all be spared.

 © C.E. Vance