Tender years gave rise to these formative thoughts
An inspiration to heroism - epic, long and true;
A call to arms to contribute
Easy words that pass to be heard and parroted
Through every level of heaven and hell and whatever lay between.
Such is cry and farce combined into the truest lie
Where simple men can only sit and stare
Through gaps in a grasping web
Of a stalking arachnid
Whose purpose is machination beyond our nightly fear.
And yet the congregation lends its ears to the old spider
Its forked and silvery tongue reaching through
Our oily sepulchral halls:
Where the dead of ages past are interred
Putting into their proper place those whose futures are forgone.
Tender years give rise to such formative thoughts,
As darken the soul under cover of night
Cool and forgiving in sorrow extended
Harsh and biting to those who enlist in redefinition;
Pallor of the soil whose plague-bearing hands never wither.
The conclusion of our past brethren
Cannot anymore be dug up and changed
As was understood and lost in times past
But which we shall now know in finality
That escape seems impossible.
