Vain

‘How much more can one bear? ’ Her words almost emerged from the rain And echoed in the droplets’ din on the soil, ‘How much and how much more? ’ Her voice rose above the thunder. She was looking weird in the lightning’s flash. ‘The first man in my life left before I was a woman, Let woe befall him I don’t remember his face. He left me for the feasting vultures and wolves And the devourers spared nothing but my bones. God, I’ve no faith in him, played a greater devil, From that lust of rain, a drop planted in me a seed That birthed in this debauched heart a seed of greed Of hope, of life, of a love of my flesh and blood, One that I could bring and nurture with pride. But my womb infested with the rivers of poison Couldn’t ripen it enough to drop on earth And there I was alone on the rough wild sea With no land on sight, no shore to anchor, Floating aimlessly where no light would ever shine’. ‘You write so much about loneliness and suffering, Make it up having seen so little of the real face of it. But I’ve lived them, each day sinking evermore Into pits from where my agony’s cry couldn’t be heard. How much more can one bear, how much more I still have to? ’ Her words fell like thunder as the rain lashed the earth. I knew the vainness of all the pictures I painted!