A gloomy day, down and grey.
Roads dark, perfect, nary a mark
for all is dark and all mark
their passage, waiting for a message.
Maybe hope, maybe a slippery slope
of desire and longing, prolonging
the mortal mind seeking to find
the name, seeking the lame.
Rainbows appear, the sun leers
at a sprawling green only seen
by bodies elated, societies sedated
wonder and dream but the real cream
passes through, so smoothly through
others lips, peoples joined at the hips.
Clouds must lift as death is swift
the light must be seen before the flight,
a path to the gate pebbled in fate
rises high and falls through the sky
a deity to rise from water's demise
judgment passed from first to last,
just and fair the jury with care
debate, deliberate, and wait
for hearts to tremble, resemble
remorse for straying from their source,
judgment is passed from first to last.
3 days ago