Funeral

Vagrant God

Funeral


No one could deem this an end 
Yet there is no grave for you to tend 
The feathers fell to dark intrigue 
A tell-tale praise - a solemn need 

Reconciled with torment fraught 
Swallowed down the throat of nought 
Your hands lay bleeding with regret 
The night when angels sorely wept 

The manic sea of smothered cries 
Ran in his blood, poured in his eyes 
Yet the unrest would pine away 
In solitude where death holds sway 

So this is how credence declines 
All words come down and laughter pines 
A vagrant god released from debt 
Discouraged yet - who will forget? 

Their failing stare - despondency 
The nature of his entity 
The heartfelt warmth of which they sought 
To brace comfort, he shelters not 

Black rivers dug into the earth 
Bearing out the human worth 
He owns no awe, no love to crave 
Only his death would have them saved