The Soul Forsaken

Head-bowed I stood before the Gates of
God,
And pleaded starvingly;
The Great Eye would not see;
And cold with hopeless tears again I trod
The dreaded vast.
I felt the souls immortal moving past
All singingly.
Oh, pity me! Oh, pity me!
Wandering eternally!

I moved among Olympic ways amoan,
And looked with searching eye
Upon the mournful sky.
I lay and wept before the crumbled throne
Of Jove the dead.
I heard the soundless twilight, and I fled
With hopeless sign.
Oh, pity me! Oh, pity me!
Wandering eternally!

I strayed from peak to peak; from star to star:
And roamed in search of grace
Amid the field of space;
I craved at barren pagan shrines of far
Antiquity:
But mouths were mute, and eyes refused to see
The asking face.
Oh, pity me! Oh, pity me!
Wandering eternally!

I lay abreast above the chasm of Hell,
And claimed my destiny
Amid it demonry.
In vain I shrieked for entrance at the well
Of Sin.
I heard the Sobs and Sorrows rushing in
All moaningly.
Oh, pity me! Oh, pity me!
Wandering eternally.

by Leon Gellert

Other poems of LEON GELLERT (81)

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