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God Struck

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God Struck, that Graceful Disgrace into Decent 

(1st. version)

 

Am I?

Of course I’m surprised!

A secondary crucifixion

Oh Pray tell

 

Wither these leaves of mine

That stars may pose and shine

Soil tills the will of return

As light of day forever burns

This eternal flame we so yearn

 

 And though you and I we try

The end ends with a cry

We can only skip small stones

Denting the self healing waters

The further we skip

The further we falter

Fist shaking at you eternal known

Divorcing humans one by one

Yet death is never forced to run, why?

Our flight weak must walk the tombs

Our death begins in the womb

Treacherous bitch of lies we die for you

Hundreds of billion feed one sun and one moon

Worm food canned in eloquent containers

For the dark backside of an estrange stranger

Shedding our skin as if god struck by stone

Remorseful and jealous of what we can’t own

Unable to heal ourselves from this mortal birth

Wither these leaves of mine

As bastard clocks keep my time

What am I really worth?

Above or below the dirt

 

He on the extended addition symbol

The long leg of our crucifixion

A wrong concoction we’ve been mix’in

Subtracted by the whole of time

Disguised as mercury on old dimes

Oh yes we do seem to shine, and bright

Unless of course the turning off of light

So rest us all in rust if you must

Coiling us back into fetal reconstruction

Granting destruction of skin and bones

So cold and fragile and left so alone

 

We are not gold but mica

A cheaper version that God struck

Why this illusion if we are to die

Why, oh why, oh why?

Why must we reassemble the sun?

Or fake a child’s death undone

How could we not see this diversion?

Following us home as we pray

Believe in me you say

If later you wish to rise

During the Sabbath sunrise

Rise then to that final conversion

Who of us would argue?

We are but formed of dirt

It’s like Shakespeare

But translated way too clear

Life is but a simple flirt

We thought us angels

Our tango caught in his light

But here in hell we are bound

Life wears a tiny crown

Born with an invisible curse

Nothing past death is ever worse

We are the useless fight

We hold no heavenly purse

Sons, daughters dance into night

Knees becoming smooth

Afraid to lose

No more grooves

Just life

 

Chalice me this drink for peons

Of faithful and fruitful eons

Father, Son and Holy Spirit

Our deal seems to leak a bit

A hand shake full of only human spit

Which road of yours shall we follow?

The bird of prey or a timid swallow

Does your truth bend with light?

Does your light bend our day?

What is wrong, what is right?

What would you truly say?

Good fight or just goodnight

Or are we just

God Struck

 

 

 

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