A crack en the veneer,
We so carefully crafted,
Reveals a wasteland once hidden
Behind the ramparts of our vanity’s shame
A wasteland where
We are neither kind
Nor generous 2 ourselves
A wasteland where
Brutes dig en their heels and
Shadows dwell
And the only Hell
Is the Hell we make!
{Two-Beat Pause}
A wasteland where
We suffer needlessly
A wasteland where
Anguish sets in
A wasteland where
The kindling of Ananda is discarded, then
Hastily thrown ento the bin
A wasteland where
We await a new sword en stone and
a new round table w/
Glorious Knights of Faith prepared
To travel the Dark Wood alone
And atone,
For us all,
The loss of the Dawn
[The White Wood’s Beckoning Aside.]
Dawn –
The fall of Grace
Upon errant shoulders
That liminal state –
The very moment b’fore daye breaks
The very moment b’fore a purple skye is gorgeously fill’d
W/ a billion billion rays of light
{Fingercymbals-Twice}
A crack!
And a battalion of Seraphim descend
A crack!
And a siege of Demons rise
A crack!
And The Gatekeeper,
Pine cone staff en hand,
Opens his big brown eyes
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