. . .And a Candle Still Burns
Light in huge darkness.
Candle burning up and down, staring at poisoned masses yet uncrowned.
A fool's pity infects their eyes and laughter loud when innocence dies.
Yearning for a lowly crow's forgotten route. Still the candle burns inside and out.
No mask can cover the lies yet to tell, building a Sassafras staircase to the lowest room in hell.
All is gone. All is dust.
Where were once wings above, now darkness feeds the mouths of His doves.
Satin blue, satin new. Can never un-paint, drizzle down the prideful idol that's you.
A sacred sigh, a promise so high, matches the dead sun and leaking dark sky.
The black wolf and raven too, smile at the cosmos they once secretly-ruled.
Gluttons we are.
We sit, we gluttons of lust, eating remainders of good flesh now dust.
Traipsing, dancing idolatry's last dance, crouching, groveling at queen's new prance.
Horses white, horses black, praying and begging just some to come back.
And panther waits at six whore's gates wanting a soul to wander.
Ghosts, babes, serpent's two souls.
Ghosts of babes sighs that muzzle hearts and tear life to dust and falling apart.
Old men, old women ride safely on the cart, they worked, played, and lived their part.
Silently watching the skeleton march and drunkards' tongues wag, wiggle and parch.
A serpent's two souls, with one six-pence at toll, walks willingly to garden's unfold.
One prayer. One hope.
Oh, for a prayer, a hymn to appease, to please His silent, secret will
For snowflakes, hay rakes, and sunshine hours that fill.
She's heard the grave and birthed the cave where fairytales once stayed.
He's made dumb, backbone now numb, just to taste one lowly beggar's crumb.
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