Listen, oh cursed brother of Abel:
How is it that you could take for granted
and discard that which I had and was so
dear to me? I too had someone, he was
not a brother, but likened to one.
That which you felled I held dear. We were kin,
But more so in the heart than by our blood--
the blood. Blasphemous. You defiled a gift,
mine was wrenched away. The soil swallowed
his blood, a muddy hole caressed the bones
of my angel for two dark, dreadful years.
I writhe, weeping in agony for you
brother Cain. What have you to say to this?

I hang my head before you cursed kin,
for all too long have I known the foulness
of my deed. I loved my Abel, as you
your kin, and no rejection should have pushed
me down that plack-paved road your killer walks
upon with a willful, gleeful malice
in his step. Cry, O sweet brother, my arms
shall bear your weight. Weep upon me, this poor
wretch Cain, and by your tears know what I
have felt, a tormented tormentor. Let our
tears fall as one and tonight let He who
is above hear the woeful lament for
them--our requiem.

11/12/2005

Posted on 07/14/2005
Copyright © 2024 T.J. Carver