Ive marked ye, clown!
out of tha pack.
Took the solitary road
be bold I whispered.....
“Would not a score of weasels,
beg a rotten tooth, from ya gape?”
So, Herod ye stand watching always the sharpening of a sword.
That cut, severed the Baptist`s head.
But afore all that luscious gore ta business!
Herod ye owe me, don’t dare deny
mine taste fer vengence .
Oh! em holy inocents,
remember .... aye take yer time,
when ya hurly burly soldiers slew, all em first born sons of tha Jew.
Oh! ear em mothers wail
I paid fer that in banishment.
So through the darkness doust I crawl
now Herod hear, the knocking at tha door.
Did I not give unto ye Herodias ya brothers wife?
Wasn’t she tha bitter queen, and played tha part of tha joker’s tart.
Whose daughter Salome, danced danced entranced ye.
So arrives on silver platter, mine prize mine desire.
Tha prophet`s head
none more richly honoured such as you
who imprisoned, tortured murdered tha Jew.
But now oh` Herod, ta tha counting room.
In heavenly chains wilt drag.
Remember remember thine debt ta me !
fer, ta parley, dabble, bibble , babble with a devil.
unto tha abyss I cast ye. Begone!......
Copyright © carrington marshall