Rat

Start at the base of societal turn, Perhaps someday soon we will learn? To trust in riches you would be a fool; Thick briars lined with scars through its papal cause In chosen vessels torn to rubbish; A slight sequence of events to report more trouble; Sifting through the melodic rubble Vanquished in the modest abode Sifted as wheat for you have been told Just suppose we made another abode? In reason of quaint filled deliverance; Nature lies dormant from its beckoning call In emmense pain comes our freedom One will fall back in common place Laced in some moderate sense to late With parts unknown we stroll along In want or need to see you bleed With chosen rations from parts unknown; With decisions made through a papal throne What efforts were made on a cereal bowl display In a variation of a dream we will pay To ever humbly bow the knee by which to pray.