Lamentations alone cannot stop
the bleeding of the land at the ankles,
nor stop the tears of Deluge

Grief matters little in a prophesied
pogrom, for a general death is
not reckoned with evil —

And prophecies shall remain with rain
forty days and forty nights;

And the empty trenches of Desert
shall be filled, her sands mired
upon the gluey spittle of the rains;

Even oases shall puke their water
upon broken rocks —Desert treasures.

When the sun lies in witness to this
history, with ancestral brown drums
saluting yonder,
lamentations shall be futile.