Kiriyalayson Poem by Louis Awad

Lord, O Lord
Lord, O Lord
The sorrows of this planet
Weigh down my childlike heart.
Disaster upon disaster,hidden in my breast,
A thorn in my eyelid, with lances for eyelashes,
That draw out of my proud eye meager tears in poison trickle,
Unleash on my heart a fire of leaping, hovering flame.
Lord, O Lord, Lord, O Lord, Lord, O Lord, Lord, O Lord, Lord, O Lord
I shed the tears of others, for their sake, while those of yesterday yet remain.
Relent, O Lord,
Grant the prayer
Of the hungry and the starving,
Of the lover in his lament,
Of flesh mourning the flesh beneath the soil,
Of the soul that weeps tears of fire and rends my nerves,
Of ignorant man, dumb like the ox beneath his yoke.
All around blood, scum and the bellowing of rage.
Your world is a tragedy on which the curtain rose when time began.
Enjoy full well the spectacle! Misery is my lot of from the lord.
O my creator,
O my creator,
I have for long wondered at you,
Yet your riddle shall not mock me.
Your world is a fistful of wind-as a prophet said,
Your hereafter a mirage with a golden shimmer.
I, a slave of ashes, born of the night of gloom,
A spread woven from the fantasies of a ghost, Ariel, luminous and alluring
We are like children who weep when the star hides behind the cloud.