The Sacrifice of Honey Upon Ashen Altars
Labors lasting gift
ripe fruits of remembrance
harvesting the days
In great furrowed fields
convictions seeds shall flourish
ocher nectar flows
When fallow hearts ache
barren moments linger on
in passions absence
Burning honeycombs
reveal compassions demise
in fires of faith
Sewing bright eyes shut
with bleak threads of devotion
needles made from fear
Ashen marble slabs
bear witness to extortion
baptized upon lies
Doubting gold pulpits
wise flocks soon put to pasture
blissful ignorance
All idols are false
before clear eyes of reason
cast out sick shepherds
For thy lord is dead
buried in a shroud of myth
and thine will is mine