Last Meal

by Pavel Chichikov

He came back from the dead again

I watched him eat his modest meal

Lazarus, and he was real

He came back from the dead again

I saw he was a working man

Bent and dark of skin

He came back from the dead again

I saw that he was bent and strong

Before his meal prayed long

Come again to bring me home

As once You drew me from the tomb

I am so tired, Master mine

I have seen such sorrow, grief

As agonized the faithful thief

Who begged Your favor

Yet still there is enough to scar

All flesh, I mean the pangs of war

Oppression and violation

It wearies me until I bend

With triple sorrow – bring an end

At least to me if not to all

To grow so old and see so much

Of heinousness – where is the touch

That drove the demons out?

Then he dipped his spoon and ate

Patient, slow – how long to wait

Until he finishes?

Click here to follow Pavel's ongoing epic poem “The Shoulder of the Sun.” You may also visit Pavel's website at Grey Owl Press.