Cain's Complaint
One morning ere the sun burnt hot
My brother Abel pleased me not,
And though my face shone like the sun,
When moonlight came I cudgeled him.
Oh, had my brother marked me well
There were no more for me to tell.
One morning when the sun burnt hot
Again my brother pleased me not.
I cut a bough to make a bow,
And with a dart I laid him low.
When next time he pleased me not
I made a gun and with it shot.
Should he provoke me but once more,
I'll have yet deadlier things in store.
Bombs I'll make till I have one
That shall dispatch a megaton.
Then shall my brothers mark me well
And there'll be no more to tell.
One evening ere the sun had set
Through his device his end Cain met.
And Rachel wept and Sarah sighed
When Cain the unrepentant died.
"Though there was God in Heaven to trust,
he found for me and poisoned dust,"
wrote Death his epitaph,
"And so I'll have the final laugh."
But then at last the Archangel cries:
"Cain's had his day. Let Abel rise
Copyright © Julian Scutts | Year Posted 2017
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