Mortal Drums

Pumping, beating, under skin, Pulsing with the crimson flush, Beating, pumping, Skin's a tremble at it’s touch Gentle strength, will not fail, falter To respond, will not live, The lies that we, so often run Pumping, beating Beating, pumping Pulsing, pulsing, Always at work, Never gets tired, never overworked But I am tired, And my heart, (Not, that beating drum!) Is weary, torn By need is gloom, (Woes be gone) Wishing silence But the drum beats And on and on, Beats a racket, Beat’s and beat’s, Forever on ……………………… Will it ever be done?