Under an olive tree,
A woman waits
For a fulfillment
Of a promise.

She stared at the sky
Hoping that soon
He will go down
And come for her

But time is like sand
That slips feebly in our hands
We can’t get hold of it
No matter how hard we try.

Death took pity
Of the downhearted soul
He got her and
Soothed her soul.

At last, the mighty god
Went down and searched.
But he never found her,
All that is left is a barren promise.