A Lasting Interlude

Mirror reflects solitude
as my face fades away in time.
That intangible agony
of unfulfilled dream
drowns Martha in her prime.

I shovel the barren land,
in hope of water - my tears;
I prepare to cultivate
near unassailable sangfroid
amidst the din of prevenient fears.

My soul transcends its frivolous
expectations - revolutionary path
to Okinawa doth no longer inspire.
It yearns to wander in Oklahoma;
neon lights, white wine -
a perfect Sabbath.


Note: 'Martha' refers to 'Martha of Bethany'