Cape Of Sadness Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Cape of sadness
Black wrath of concentration camps
Clouds that hover angrily
Mists of hopes that fall
Downwards
Downwards
Into the vale of Conscious and
Sub-Conscious both:
Thread mill that loses the breath
The Poet Seer gasps, looks at the
Heavens but their face is angry.


We are in storms to-night, see the thunder-light!
We are in the reign of sadness to-night,
See, see, even the drear fading starlight!


Cape of sadness
Black wrath of concentration camps
Clouds that hover angrily
Mists of hopes that fall
Downwards
Downwards
Into the vale of Conscious and
Sub-Conscious both:
Thread mill that loses the breath
The Poet Seer gasps, looks at the
Heavens but their face is angry


Copernicus with us, the vessel by
Columbus moves and there be land in sight:
Tempests subside a little
Are still green as yet
As yet.


You see where you have brought me to?
You see?
You see?
Cape of sadness
Black wrath of concentration camps
Clouds that hover angrily
Mists of hopes that fall
Downwards
Downwards
Into the vale of Conscious and
Sub-Conscious both:
Thread mill that loses the breath
The Poet Seer gasps, looks at the
Heavens but their face is angry


There be such low depths now that
I feel the bottom


Where have you brought me to? Why
The precipice? Was not the Calvary
Enough?


With pince-nez in the fading light
You examine my thoughts that
Your refined computer transcribes:
Like an electrocardiogram
The transcription goes:
The red dusk is in its throes
The light is yielding to the dark
Draw the curtain.


Fragments that make the block
The One from Many then comes:
The deed is done, the job.


O! dark thoughts dark, dark thoughts!
Yet though the stomach churns
The lungs feel some warmth and
Some breath:
The brain enclosed in an iron
Sheath.


See, see where they brought me:
The edge of the cliff is ready
Below the giddying heights
The raging seas, the green of waves,
The sea-wraiths and the spume


And then in the night the restless
Ghosts and shrouds:
Pacing the city restless: come!
Come! I will be one with you.


Cape of sadness
Black wrath of concentration camps
Clouds that hover angrily
Mists of hopes that fall
Downwards
Downwards
Into the vale of Conscious and
Sub-Conscious both:
Thread mill that loses the breath
The Poet Seer gasps, looks at the
Heavens but their face is angry


There was an end, it had to be,
That was a bitter end and
Yet
Yet before the Calvary:
With every day I prayed its end
My prayers heard at last?
The bottom I assert has now
Been reached.
The summit of the agony, the Cross,
The yellow of paleness
The last sweating
Stop.


Did I a Poet-Seer deserve this?