With a sound understanding
And a firm foundation
The load is secured, shouldered high
And not a word, not a groan
Or a syllable lost upon the grave
Or weighed upon the soul.
We live in days of social niceties,
You and I.
Fine distractions,
Tender disorders everywhere
And expensive sadness to pacify all.
Days where expletives
Have become the high mark
In a misplaced horizon.
A time
When the man in the moon
Has become a lover of self,
His children lost to him
And disrespectful,
His sky in turmoil and his lovers disobedient.
A time when God
Has been closed to the ears
Of modern man,
Who thinks he has balanced himself
On the edge of desire
As the words in the books
Of love and truth lay closed
And decaying in the streets,
Cold and dusty- - -
Dead between the spines.