The Butcher

disparity hangs like death in the trees

while life clings tightly to survival

fate offers us little guarantees

when measured bullet to bible

the devil leaves a wasteland behind

slim pickens to be selfishly scavenged

slipping through the veil of hell and time

and into what men can imagine

the ravens stand guard as the keepers of time

cause mens deeds are too often evil

featherless, so they cannot take flight

pink skinned vessels to be used by the devil

beware of whispers on the breezes

take heed to the warnings they give

there are lessons to be learned in the bruises

and a choice in the path that it gives

so, go on - sing your songs and chant every chant

though this journey we're on may be daunting

soon every soul will learn to join in the dance

and bare witness at the butcher's crossing