In between the tearful smiles resides a man a hole dug deeply. Upon the rock the waves will crash the path it winds ahead so steeply. In demons den or heavenly hoard when sheep just bay as lions roared. There’s nothing better than what we are headed toward.

In days to come and sleepless nights in slumber’s deep with endless fights. A dream remains filled with gains as loss reminds us it still remains. Into the gates we march all know before hand that none shall fall, we’re headed toward the mass recall.

In flights of fancy with fool’s regard punching holes on a dancer’s card. We look to hope and the songs of bard. To bolster courage and a stand of brass with hair that’s tinted by sassafras, they yank at culture, faith and our class. None are found at midnight mass.

In days we quibbled and promised not, that grace we’re given we soon forgot. Let Jesus take the final shot its all for one or one for naught. My thinking made adjust in proclamation engaging trust not about the fear we once discussed or protestation to which we’re bussed.

In daze we squandered our righteous chance to gain our lusts in deep romance, the flowers gone by happenstance we now retreat when we should advance. In prayers and wishes we reside swallowed by our hungry pride seeking power as our promised guide.

In days of lore and fabled trance we hoped to make our second stance, but footing gave before the lance. So dirt became us and dust we knew gone to stone and ocean’s blue, not much regard for the things we knew we turned against the righteous few.

In hopeful days but absent lies and the indulgent power it defies with shoulders hard and bright blue skies reduced in size the teeth and eyes. Our worries gone and twice forgiven our death eschewed we living life we twice were given.

In days diminished and nights with no dark we found resolve in book and ark our ventures left in garden park. With tears of blood we cried our last all the rotten things of mindful past with hands anew we ran so fast to bow and helm and cloth filled mast.