A Moment's Stay

Ok so this is an uncharacteristically sad and morbid poem, but it was for English, and the things we read in English are similarly often rather depressing. Hence the poem. I will post a self-explication of it shortly. (so weird referring to myself as "Jain"...)

"A Moment's Stay"

Farewell, Farewell, Farewell,
Please free me from this hell.

But stay your scythe a moment,
A second, a minute, a year,
For I remain anchored like a vessel to its mooring
Though it be shredded
As thin as a lonely thread of silk.

Farewell, Farewell,
Take me from hell!

But stay your scythe a moment,
A second, a minute, a year,
As I watch all the petals fall
Through years into decades,
And like an angel be kind
And stay your scythe a moment,
For passion, and worship, and dear,
For the soft wool on your head
And the soft skin on your face
And the soft smile of sweet sleep
On your red lips
Of sin, of Prynne, of Karenin.

Farewell.

But stay, stay your scythe a moment,
For anguish, and hatred, and fear,
And you will receive for your pains
Yet another stalk of wheat
Ready for your dread harvest.