May 20, 2006 13:39
Ah, the lord shalt haveth thine bounty
To taketh unto itself a spacious gourd of delight
With unrelenting fury, to satirize the weak
An opulent landscape of divine grace
And unto himself he shalt keepeth the grindstones of repentence
Towards a tawny polarity of equidistant revelation
Impotent martyrs rejoice amongst the virulent decorum
Seething with joyous atonement for thy transgressions
Thou shalt remember thy exceptional fury
Which striketh down upon the teeming throng
Unto itself it shall not weep
For it is libarantine, ex plurabis deus christe
Why doth the hazy wheatgrass occupy thine immaculate vision?
Within thy accomodating innards lies the salivating buzzard of justice
I shalt not lie down amongst the Yemenites, for their indiscretion shalt smolder
with wicked resonance,
Eternally