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.
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