Photo by Peter Lewis on Unsplash
Pity the Pitiless
You will never know true love
You, who weighs all things by gains
You’re left a wealth bereft of
Substance and joy, your void reigns
You, who weighs all things by gains
Born into meaningless means
Substance and joy, your void reigns
Stranger to spring’s renewed greens
Born into meaningless means
What is sin, you call a win
Stranger to spring’s renewed greens
The want you chase? Frail and thin
What is sin you call a win
You’re left a wealth bereft of
The want you chase; frail and thin
You will never know true love
You’re left a wealth bereft of
Compassion; lost, you taunt fate
You will never know true love
Your flock divides, wielding hate
Compassion lost, you taunt fate
Lies, scapegoats fuel your sad boast
Your flock divides, wielding hate
Both them and you suffer most
Lies, scapegoats fuel your sad boast
But spring sun will have her turn
Both them and you suffer most
You will never feel the burn
But spring sun will have her turn
You will never know true love
You will never feel the burn
You’re left a wealth bereft of
You will never know true love
To hold her hand, knowing God
You’re left a wealth bereft of
True gold, searched by dowsing rod
To hold her hand, knowing God
Surrender to selfless need
True gold, searched by dowsing rod
Not obtained through hate and greed
Surrender to selfless need
Unlocking joy none can buy
Not obtained through hate and greed
Treasures few can quantify
Unlocking joy none can buy
You’re left a wealth bereft of
Treasures few can quantify
You will never know true love
You will never know true love
You’re left a wealth bereft of
***
Written in honor of the peaceful worshippers in New Zealand who had their lives violently ended by a hate-filled man who was enabled by hate groups emboldened by greedy, racist, selfish, corrupt leaders (I’m sure you know the one leader I’m thinking of. I won’t give him the satisfaction of writing his name.)
Shared at dVerse Poetry–a Piece of Written Art, hosted by Victoria C. Slotto. We’re still dabbling with the pantoum form here.
Hephaestus’ Waste & Cosmic Rubble 
Well done Barry. A horrible act of hate. Ignorance fueled by fear ignited by evil. May those torn by this tragedy find peace.
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The Power of the Pen and of Truth. Well done Barry.
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your repetition is masterful, like the end with the couplet, this is like a warrior’s song for the weak.
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It’s a world gone crazy. I went out to lyrics page to read along with the music to the video. I see youtube censored it. How ironic. Great song, even though the lyrics are scary (and true!) I very much like the way you composed your pantoum. The last two lines bring it home. I wish I could pity them, but with vacuums in the place of souls they are incapable of appreciating what they will never know.
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NO need to name them – we can hear their hate filled words. I specially like this part Barry:
You will never know true love
Your flock divides, wielding hate
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Barry, as I read this I was reminded of so many biblical passages. This is such a true poem and, in retrospect, fits well to the Christchurch tragedy as your inspiration.
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