The black pit’s opened by the bureaucrat

How cold we are to those who suffer loss
A spouse, a child a parent or our cat
We each must bear alone our  weighty cross

In our agitation we are dross
People blank our faces as they pass
How cold we are to those who suffer loss

As Jesus showed, compassion is remiss;
More so now for modern technocrats
We each must bear  the sorrow of our cross

We do not ask for magnitude in love
Merely for a human face and chat
How cold we are to those who suffer loss

When in despair, the heart is clothed in frost
The black pit’s opened by the bureaucrat
We each must bear in agony our cross.

There are no angels nor Magnificat
Only empty skies and fields of glass
How cold we are to those who suffer loss
We each are left to bear our lonely cross