ark. (II)

Early morning calls

stripped of all

chance to find

a moment of time.

Family fortune

is my portion,

otherwise a rained

skeptic,

concupiscent.

Does the favor

of a birthright,

grant to me an insight?

Offer me a way out?

Give to me an extra year,

to die by some other

death,

to submit to some other

fear -

that my mother might shed

some other

tear?

If I take what I'm

offered,

decline to join the

scoffers,

and raise my head

above the flood

with even the lowest worm,

doing as he ought -

might I find admission paid

- not by my cries in the dark -

a place already bought

- hands have left a mark -

and salvation for the asking,

on this commissioned ark?