Innocent Born
Innocent born, we're bound for heaven's door,
Even those born in the forest, or rock-strewn plains, painted like tropical birds, pierced by bone,
There is something out there, beyond our seeking, beyond our contrivances,
Something burned, fed, nurtured, praised, supplicated to, and defended, claimed allegiance to, call it whatever you want,
Even those born in the forest, or rock-strewn plains, painted like tropical birds, pierced by bone,
There is something out there, beyond our seeking, beyond our contrivances,
Something burned, fed, nurtured, praised, supplicated to, and defended, claimed allegiance to, call it whatever you want,
it's just not you.
Who will go, dare to take a peek, who will stay until the very end,
witness, sightless, voiceless, the last eclipse of the sun.
Who will go, dare to take a peek, who will stay until the very end,
witness, sightless, voiceless, the last eclipse of the sun.
The swallowing of light, darkening of our time
I was born a simple lad, innocent.
Different now from beguiling, carefully crafted false beliefs of my summery youth, as was/is many of my generation,
not monster enough as adult,
To find reasons
To pop open a child's head
From secret vantage points,
cowards hiding amidst cross haired hopes, targets,
powers of illusion, takes us to st peters gate,
ribboned awards hanging from a sniper heroes' fate,
Nor did i nurture masked men's fanciful dances with destiny,
Assured that machete/sword is enough, guns to back you up,
To get me into a saintly martyr's shroud,
NOr did i entertain hacks and hawkers of my lifetime,
proxy wars between so called witches, werewolves, warlocks and their evil ilk, threatening one, while hand feeding another,
Monstrous battles for our souls to keep, lands to confiscate,
Sciences, beliefs, tales, lies, fanatical and fantastical expedience's
claimed would make us free, miracle elixirs, chants and necromancer delights, my nation supreme,
I was born a simple lad, innocent.
Different now from beguiling, carefully crafted false beliefs of my summery youth, as was/is many of my generation,
not monster enough as adult,
To find reasons
To pop open a child's head
From secret vantage points,
cowards hiding amidst cross haired hopes, targets,
powers of illusion, takes us to st peters gate,
ribboned awards hanging from a sniper heroes' fate,
Nor did i nurture masked men's fanciful dances with destiny,
Assured that machete/sword is enough, guns to back you up,
To get me into a saintly martyr's shroud,
NOr did i entertain hacks and hawkers of my lifetime,
proxy wars between so called witches, werewolves, warlocks and their evil ilk, threatening one, while hand feeding another,
Monstrous battles for our souls to keep, lands to confiscate,
Sciences, beliefs, tales, lies, fanatical and fantastical expedience's
claimed would make us free, miracle elixirs, chants and necromancer delights, my nation supreme,
Thus, their secrets eventually revealed, as magical incantations, rubric phrases Passed from mouth to ear, ear to mouth, tucked in clandestine shadows, our prison walls,
We cherish, always looking toward the sky, the opening bell, is it falling? Should we give a warning?
The sacred horn sounds, announcing deliverance, of an aborted paradise, a reckoning of sorts.
Sent from my iPad
We cherish, always looking toward the sky, the opening bell, is it falling? Should we give a warning?
The sacred horn sounds, announcing deliverance, of an aborted paradise, a reckoning of sorts.
Sent from my iPad
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