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"Judgement Days"


God needs his martyrs
and god needs his knaves
turning back around
to the light we would be slaves

Help make the journey
Time transforms even the sun
That gentry force
Scaled in ton

Gifts and the talented good
so kept so unkempt
shirtless dirty wonder-child
the noteworthy nobles not exempt

Bedridden and blues skies
all unmanned, unstationed
escalating to a withering string
and our smiles must be rationed

Some gentles hearts, meaning well
poor, holding grudges though emaciated
drew judging lines, a descent to hell
Faithful to the god thus designated

Laughs and heckles the jester when we die
But jolly so does he
All just awakened, rubbing their eyes
How childlike are we.






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