Poetry- Atlas the bearer of the earth.

Me:

“Atlas!
Atlas!

Why do you bear
The weight of the earth?
Let me be your heir
Let go of your bane
Your freedom go regain:
The laughter and the mirth!”

Atlas:

“Why do you want my load?
Can’t you see my plight?”

Me:

“My heart is heavy
With the sorrow of the world
Yet my hands are idle
Why should they not share
The burden of my heart?


Atlas:

“And what burdens you soul,
That you’d want my accursed role?”

Me:

“Every human lie
Every human sigh
Every child’s cry
Injustice in my land
The cruelty of the hand
That kills without shame
The loss of mercy
From all the hearts
The twilight of humanity’s flame”


Atlas:

“Be gone!
Be you early! Be you late
You’re not ready
To carry the weight

I don’t hear the cries
I don’t hear the sighs
I don’t hear the lies
As long as you can grieve
You can’t bear my weight
Least of all my fate
That broken hearts should come
Ask for my accursed load
Listen to my words
--Then Leave!

By Comte Almaviva

In memory of Qana

When the whole world
waits for you to die
don't go searching for your dreams
Where metaphor's  lost its wings
how high can they fly?

What are you looking for?
A friend? A stranger? A lover?
A shoulder on which to sigh?

This is no time for tears
Six thousand miles away
where beasts of war are howling
your mother can hear you cry

She tells you nothing is wrong
the spirits are high-the hearts are strong
but six thousand miles away
she can hear the song
They don't want her grief
nor to see her cry
they just want her to die

When the whole world
waits for you to die
know that people have a heart
their conscience is not dry
it's just not yours to try

Why do you tax their souls?
They did not kill your dead
all they did was close
their eyes and hearts instead

Why do you still bleed?
Can't you understand?
Gentle souls don't weep
Should they lose their sleep
for your children's blood?
Remember that your children
are of a lesser God

By Comte Almaviva