The Night's Passing And Some Perorations Of Imagination Poem by RIC BASTASA

the fever came

the body is aching

overheating itself

the truth irks

the hand drooped

the foot grins



he focused on

the work

on the table

those very thick books

the complex problems

to be resolved

lurking like ghosts

inside those folders

with dog-ears



he looked up to heaven

asked that for the meantime

he will not be taken yet



he still has a great responsibility

his mission is broader and wider this time

like his overstretched shoulders

many more are goingto be saved

many more are to be served

all those dogs and other beasts

burdened with all suppressed indifference



the sky darkened

the world is blackened with polluted clouds

strong ill winds came like pirates

to turn everything aground

there is no more strainer or stone breakers

stolen by chance and those passing night mares.