"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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