Open the door, and let us in to embrace
Your reluctance to bestow your grace.
We have been banging with our callused fist,
And wonder why you our ardor still resist?
The Beloved, we have heard, is never so cruel,
As when she deigns to speak to a hapless fool.
We will take our chances with audacity-
The worst we face is your cold, heartless pity.
The noose tightens and the neck constricts;
How much longer before the breath forfeits?
What a bright and cheery day to happily die,
To swing from an apple tree, and earth deny.
Hey, look Darvish- it’s not that bad. Someday
The door will open, and your mind will sway!
