Saturday, December 7, 2013

Fair thee in the dark well.

Slithering in the garden
where all was kind and green,
you invented the gods who spoke
upon a sordid dream.

The years went by
the women wept,
the children
punished in a grand forget.

The gods were men in tantrum
yielding to warlike wardens
with a beating drum
seeking a stage of numbness.

Numb nuts!

A stain upon the verdant graze
a blot in the eye of a moonlit gaze,
the stars smoldered quietly
above an esosteric haze.

Hell on earth was all ablaze.

The prophets were delivered
to fortunes and fame,
while the peasants
wilted in poverty's shame.
A most unfortunate game.

'Til Now. And let there be Light.

A shifting know how.

A call to remember
the wisdom forbidden
somehow.

An arch on past regrets,
eyes of seed
deeds of greed
a deafening crush
in lightening speed.

A royal flush after paper torn
to a murky sea implanted on scorn,
the days are numbered
to a plight foreseen and forlorn.

You wrote it yourselves
your were always forewarned.