At Despair Poem by Fate McFate

My banner was with no oil
the ointment alter had rusted
of the dripping tears.
In sack clothes, I lamented
face down before the death valley
in the open dry dusty desert.
The sun darkened
the moon had covered its face in blood
the stars no more shown.
Songs of laments
took the throne of my praises.

Oh! Alas!
A faint wind begun to blow
rustling over the carcasses of dry grasses.
Along the monuments of a river bank,
the east tarned, the clouds whitened,
the blue sky brightened
a wet breeze
tend to rejuvenate the river valley.
A dry fig tree looked me in the eye
and questioned me
''can you add your life a second? ''

The sun rose high to hear
the moon and stars graciously awoke
the birds of air, serpents of the bushes
crickets of the thickets, greens of the dusts.
''Do we not eat yet we toil not?
Is it not your God who provides? ''

My heart fumed of fury
as all awaited to hear me say,
'' The lord is my shepherd,
I shall not want.''