Pity Me Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Pity me, pity me,
here where I lie,
the night is warm in
its very chill
the snows on hideous
mountain tops turns lead and
zinc.
around all things go
I am surrounded
as in a giant coffin
where I go, I be.

No light of Dawn to cheer me on
from these my plights:
no, no light here
save a dim grave yard light
that drops stinking dews
and on above I hear fluttering
the wings of large red bats
that overhead fly.

Time I hear strike by
some far distant clock
that so loud bleats
that sounds to me
as yet
as yet
and in deep midnight
accordingly
I hear
the rustling of hooded capes
of hooded shrouds and dress
inside I view not things:
how horrid even the rocks
sigh
and the rock floor all pointed
belches red and lava-hot
from irregularly distant
spouts
horror with me!
horror with me!
O pity me!

Things unclean pass around
my flesh:
insect like I feel them or
else scorpion-like
I hear too their snouts and
moustaches brush
my skin whose hairs stand on end:
so horrid, and so long, so
pitiless!

My Inner Soul is frozen
Anxiety stress horror fear
instead
and the sweat on my body covers
full:
So be so kind
that I who in this dark, dark place
Sight almost lost to just a
minimum to grope:
So
Pity me, pity me,
here where I lie,
the night is warm in
its very chill
the snows on hideous
mountain tops turns lead and
zinc.
around all things go
I am surrounded
as in a giant coffin
where I go, I be.