The Wandering Man's Prayer


i

I never understood the faith
that drove the flock to you,
nor could condone the hapless fate
you left them in to stew.

I see apostles up above,
all victims of your crime,
adrift upon insanity
you built in your design.

They think they do your work, oh God,
by culling freedom's peace.
They think their hate won't count when comes
your final armistace.

Instead of helping heal the world,
you leave these monsters free,
and now I know you won't save them.
You leave that up to me.


ii

I see in you a callous god,
a petty deity,
and now I have faith, finally,
that you will fail to see

the ramollescence this world needs
to rise from horror's seethe;
the freedom I must gift to it,
the air it craves to breathe.

My partner was my link to hope
but now I wear her life.
I have a stomach full of grief
where once I had a wife.

And so I pray to you, my Lord,
who dwells in ethers fey.
I pray you'll see the only course,
and stay out of my way.



The Judge's Sermon


i

The day the holy mushroom cloud
delivered us from sin,
He gave to us, the strong and proud,
the tools we need to win.

Beneath the purity of night,
for decades we have lived
to bring us to our time of might,
to live and thrive herewith.

This frontier town has been our ark
to shield us from The End.
Now we'll maintain this perfect dark
until his will amend.

I am the prophet, sent by God
to spread his holy voice,
the shepherd sent to steer you from
freedom's anarchic vice.


ii

So follow me, ye ragged few,
into the future's care,
and understand we live our lives
beneath his blessed stare.

No traitor's words will stay our hand,
no lies will hold us down.
No shadow fiend can understand
our burgeoning reknown.

We are the world, these coming times!
We are the sacred might!
We are the chosen children of
the Lord's eternal night!

We are the children: SHOUT FOR ME!
We are theandric dark!
And in our midnight, cast from earth,
the world will bear our mark!