Passion's Play

                                                                                    D                                                                        E                          F                                                                         V                              A                                                                    O                                T                                                                    L           I so do           H                                                                    E       beseech and       E                                                                      B cry   o!     ;  why R,                                                                        am          I        the                                                                    manna       -      teach                                                                   what?  A          repeated                                                                                message                                                                                 AM in                                                                                     I!                                                                                                            Shoulders                    overlapped               on timbered oak dry, wearied by dusk and twilight’s sweet mourning, purple stained palms  dripping dampered dawning, witness, I, to Holy obedience; sublimated by natural cadence, metered deftly           by Divine assembly, orchestrated so high note is trembly.  Drawn to others, gelatinous my                                                                                        G@d                                                              soul, reflective of        Above’s                                                                 diamond/coal, crushed by                                                                  suffering unneccessary,                                                                   where Man’s suffering                                                                     blights humanity by                                                                         indifference to                                                                         living matters.                                                                         Dear God, my                                                                         God, why this                                                                        that so batters                                                                      spirit that but the                                                                   noble survive?  “My                                                                  son, My son, I suffer                                                                    not alive while high                                                                     in repose so worry                                                                       do I, and tearful                                                                         are the angels                                                                           as they cry                                                                            for every                                                                             feeling                                                                              being                                                                              dated                                                                                like                                                                               Man                                                                            because                                                                            of  such                                                                             passion                                                                             painted                                                                             in tan.”