Reign Knee Daze
“Come here, my boy, just have a seat,
I'll show you something really sweet.
A trip you can't pass up, for sure,
so rich with pain and death's allure.”
Trying hard to ignore his taunts,
I soon succumbed to morbid wants,
which left me sitting by his side—
“C'mon, young man, let's take a ride...”
Reluctantly, I took his hand –
and spread below, throughout the land –
a sadness as I'd never seen,
such horrors most perverse — obscene!
We soared with ease above the ground—
“Oh no, dear boy, do not look down!
Unless I have directed you,
just look at things I've asked you to.
See there, amongst the willow trees;
young Mary Fallon, ill at ease?
With her, your best friend, Barry Pryde...
It took some work to get his hide!
And there, upon the churchyard lawn,
your faithless pastor—such a pawn.
He spews his sermons Sunday morn,
then hurries home to look at porn.
Old Mrs. Bailey, what a jewel!
She teaches all her kids at school
that prayer is best left well at home.
It warms my cockles to the bone.”
I looked in horrid disbelief,
he sought out pain without relief.
The sorrow, hatred, hopeless grief —
this cunning, stunning sad motif.
“But what, pray tell, has this to do
with anything twixt me and you?
I wish no harm on anyone.
Please leave me be, I'd say we're done.”
“Oh, is that so?” he bared his fangs,
soon overcome by rueful pangs,
all evil that I'd ever spoken
dangled there like tainted tokens.
“You see, my boy, there is no way
to escape the wicked words you say.
They all return to haunt your life,
to slice and dice you like a knife.
You must promise but one thing,
to never worship that “other” king.
Just pledge your trust to me instead,
I'll make you rich before you're dead.”
I looked around, immersed in pain,
when suddenly, cool calming rain
fell fast from clouds so dark and vast,
I finally felt relief at last.
I turned my face up towards the skies,
as teardrops mingled in my eyes
with pregnant raindrops, filled with souls,
that filled the gaps, patched all my holes.
My spirit's broken, tattered seams
had long ago forsaken dreams
which gave me hope, once long ago;
and all of this he seemed to know.
“Remember that I came to you,
I'll be around, you know it's true.
Should you decide to change your mind—
embrace me once, I think you'll find...
...such sorrow's commonplace today
you feel that God whisks it away?
I'm sorry, lad, but you're mistaken
you'll soon see all of it's forsaken.”
“No, it's not!” I cried with force,
“as long as hope remains a source
for tortured souls to rally 'round,
and life springs forth from barren ground.
For, one day soon, your reign will end,
and to the depths of hell He'll send
you and your horrid daze of death,
where, there, you'll draw your dying breath.”
“You fool, I've offered everything...
riches, women — the joys they bring.
Yet, you deny yourself these pleasures,
and toss away such splendid treasures.”
With that, he vanished in a plume
of viscous smoke and sweet perfume.
So nectarous that it stole my breath.
I caught the scents of hate and death.
Sometimes sensing he's still near,
to lurk and prey upon my fear,
if that should happen, without fail,
God sends His rain, a soothing veil. ~