Jake Berzon
2nd April 2001, 02:49
Victim.
The air is clear and full of glee,
And I am running to the sea.
The sea engulfs me with its joy.
I don’t yet know that it’s a ploy!
The sea of joy has greater powers!
It takes its victims and devours.
Those who are gullible, you see,
Are perfect catches for this sea!
It captures those who are naïve,
Confuses them so they would cleave
To those great joys that they perceive
Give life a meaning – make them live.
Those who are prisoners of love,
Hear quite whispers from above.
They feel warm waters from below
The sea will never let them go…
I see a young girl in the distance.
A little lost, she needs assistance.
I contemplate: Make her my lover,
Or should I let her run for cover?
She’s blinded now, approaching me.
I’ll have her trapped, she will not flee.
Again I think of make-belief existence.
I’ll put no limits on my persistence.
She’ll get entrapped by joys divine,
And seek more pleasures all the time.
Oh yes! I know, I’ve been too giving.
So now it’s time to start receiving!..
The poor girl thought that I cared –
I slowly tempted, then ensnared.
But she so wanted my insistence,
She never even put-up resistance.
Succumbed to pressures from within,
Gave in, surrendered, let off steam.
Our bodies sinking in the sands,
With not a chance for higher lands.
I now have homestead by the sea.
The water’s near and I’m not free.
This is my life – I started living,
I was too tired to keep on giving!
Confused, I ask my judge – the future,
“Was I an angel or a sinful butcher?”
And one more question, for the sea:
“Who was the victim, her or me?”
1/9/97
Copyright 1997, Jake Berzon.
All Rights Reserved.
The air is clear and full of glee,
And I am running to the sea.
The sea engulfs me with its joy.
I don’t yet know that it’s a ploy!
The sea of joy has greater powers!
It takes its victims and devours.
Those who are gullible, you see,
Are perfect catches for this sea!
It captures those who are naïve,
Confuses them so they would cleave
To those great joys that they perceive
Give life a meaning – make them live.
Those who are prisoners of love,
Hear quite whispers from above.
They feel warm waters from below
The sea will never let them go…
I see a young girl in the distance.
A little lost, she needs assistance.
I contemplate: Make her my lover,
Or should I let her run for cover?
She’s blinded now, approaching me.
I’ll have her trapped, she will not flee.
Again I think of make-belief existence.
I’ll put no limits on my persistence.
She’ll get entrapped by joys divine,
And seek more pleasures all the time.
Oh yes! I know, I’ve been too giving.
So now it’s time to start receiving!..
The poor girl thought that I cared –
I slowly tempted, then ensnared.
But she so wanted my insistence,
She never even put-up resistance.
Succumbed to pressures from within,
Gave in, surrendered, let off steam.
Our bodies sinking in the sands,
With not a chance for higher lands.
I now have homestead by the sea.
The water’s near and I’m not free.
This is my life – I started living,
I was too tired to keep on giving!
Confused, I ask my judge – the future,
“Was I an angel or a sinful butcher?”
And one more question, for the sea:
“Who was the victim, her or me?”
1/9/97
Copyright 1997, Jake Berzon.
All Rights Reserved.