I am the jug that has been discarded,
I have tumbled down to the marble floor,
From the drunkard’s slack hand I have parted,
Hit the ground and rung hollow to my core.
I am the sky each dawn that paints the day.
While below men toss to me their prayers.
With thunder and lightning I try to say,
My air is vacant; your God is not there.
I am the cavity in a young boy’s chest.
In which compassion and joy did once lie.
What once did beat is now laid to rest,
You can hear it in the bare cavern, cry.
With love, prayers or drink your mortality escape.
I choose not surrender, the bare bodkin I’ll take.