The Final Days

Love has been left behind For that in swine to depend Chosen vessels of barbed wire fences left outside In sorted desolation the swirl of the wind Grand illusion where lying isn't necessarily a sin Now where do I need to begin? Fenced in challenge to its proverbial structure Hence the vast opened door in the matter Exploration in its equated investigation The final days are upon us, Marked on a blotted page yet fully intact Creatures in the night sullen teeh to fright Fragmented skulls having blood drawn off side Shallow response to run away & hide The final days elapsed within a shoulder to cry despised Where wrong is right in the darkness of night to fight; Sweltering sculptures made of clay in the night to sway Whatever happened to love & a happy day A dessensitized culture filled with its vapor of death Yet I must confess; Strange as it may seem with its gloom & doom at the scene, Sold out faith in the hearts of those saints who will resist the lie The lie that says I am what I do in reply Marked on its blotted page yet fully intact Grown men who lie in wait to decieve with greed No notion of saving grace in sight Never relent in ever giving up on the fight!