cannibal cattle

Point your finger at the lonely son.
Keep in mind you sing his song.

Come now, sit on devil's lap.
Prepare to wear the thorny crown.
Secret sorrows to your lips are sewn.
Hold your breath 'till damage done.

Once creation's noise spat out its great unknown,
Sorrow and joy held hands as one.
Oh, G-d bless the boys, it is not their fault.
'Twas Adam's rib tore us apart.

Reviews

[mysticgmekeepr]

Great poem. Short, concise, and profound...not a word out of place.

[wizthom]

deep thought provoking so many ideas and inspiration i see in this write,