In a land so broken and bleak

With a people all beaten and weak

Where the wicked feed  fat on the meek

The thickening clouds do rise to speak

 

In tongues that only the wise can hear

They talk of times tailored in fear

And warn of seasons raining with tears

Preparing humans gifted with ears

 

 

 

 

Where self and soul are sold in crates

And dollar bags seal all our fates

The point of Crash is just a push

As history’s fools await the flush

 

In drowning floods of painful streams

Let no one hope for restful dreams

One  can reap no  golden grain

From such depths  of  deadly pain!

 

 

I Chorus no Croaking Chants;
To Villainous Vampires:
Barring  Tainted Teeth
To chew with joy our Flaying Flesh,

In State House Pots!

No Hallelujah Hymns;
For shifty Snakes in shapeless Suits
Who swallow whole
A Country Crushed on crosses cursed,

In Temples trashed!

I STRING no Saintly Songs;
For Grave tailors:
Who Cut and Craft
Our Shredded Shrouds,

With Smiles that stab!

NO!!!
My Simple Song
Is not for Messy Men
Who work that HARD
To Shame us so, in Sordid Style!

YES!!!

My Dusty Dirge
Is for a Country Crushed
By the Weight of Woes
Imposed on us
With marbled VOTES
To dress our Goats in Colored Coats!

I Voice this Verse
For Shaky Souls
Who Freeze with Fear,
In Silent Strain like Wasted Whores
Lined up to hang on PARTY Poles!

This is a dirge;
To the Daily Drag
Of people left to Drift and Drown
In putrid pools of  Toxic Tears
Flooding a life of grueling grief!

YET:
It’s so hard
To Holler High
‘A Hymn of Hope’
To a nation stunned
And Dropped like Dung
Beyond the feverish Fence

Of Faceless Fear!

Such ‘Sweetened Songs’
Are Hardly Heard
By Screaming Souls
Wriggling like Worms
In horrid Holes of harrowing Hell!

 

Time has wings that flap so fast,

We  never see these whizzing wings

Till it passes us

Like days gone by.

Then we stand or sit

To stare in shock

Even as our NOW becomes their THEN!