The fountain Arena

Betty Bouncer   Hip the top of hoof All that was heard was school No will of hope to laugh Call them that see and dwell Here is her old lady today So sleek and frenzy she gaze Of winter tone and grass No forty wrinkled her face She called me her nephew  On that name of Birth from different sun  Still shines on same soil I hid my name  Far from the reach of lids  Far from the blazing fire  Far from man's knowledge  She sought the pen of fame And call her sight to seek  The stolen joy of name  And formal stage alike  Then my memory lost the sight  Of Betty fist and all I gave the scroll away  And met the Forte of life Frenzy was her gaze  Docile and prudent that says Until the first eve  I made that call  And the old lady be no more.  

Christ paid a sacrifice on the cross of calvary, this day, many years ago that the world might be free from the shackles of sin. He was betrayed, rejected and abandoned just so that our victory might be won. He has finished it. Thus, the poetry celebrates and mourn with the burden of his death . Crucified Saint   Slowly, he marched to the grave  With bangles of Shames  Burden of thorns  Stripes of wound, and tears, In the chants of a crucifix Unknown born of lonely virgin Seeking to fulfill that last course  A mission assigns to the condemned Faceless and unrecoverable sinner. Cross too large to be held, Heavy and strongs that drags. Yet, he kept on strolling; "Keep going" is what he says, The work is yet to be over  Uncalled priest chosen on choice, With total conformation, he's made. "Mother, behold thy child," This lost child has lost his identity. Condemned by one who made all, Yet, he seeks, "child, behold thy mother " Read Alone by Maya Angelou