The Burning Bush

We may know what’s right and still do wrong Greed and envy run our inner world Like a crazed drunk bee we like to sting Even as the blackbird is in song The darkness of the heart will on it fall We may know what’s right and still do wrong We love to think we are the Queen or King Perfect in our power , oh iron the walls Yet crazed drunk bees can float on high to sting The hurt inside the heart can last too long The self retreats , the matador has failed We know the end , the bull will kill the throng When God came down , our spies soon had him nailed The burning bush , the little voice, the tales. We may know what’s right and do the wrong Take pleasure in our violence, kill and sting